#calliope x reader x dream of the endless

[morpheusbaby3]

a dynamic like korra x mako x asami but with Morpheus and Calliope please.

where the reader and Calliope are secretly dating because they don't want to hurt Morpheus, but then he finds out... and then maybe he'll be jealous, then happy????

or one that Calliope falls in love with first but maybe this is the first time she's attracted to a woman but she thinks she loves the reader like a sister or something?? so Morpheus helps her with this ahahshhs help

(I'm using a translator, sorryyy)

[7-wonders]

To the world we dream about (and the one we live in now)

Calliope & Reader, Morpheus/Dream of the Endless & Reader

Summary: Being in the right place at the right time turns everything you thought you knew on its head when a woman, imprisoned and battered, is literally thrown into your life. Left with no choice but to do the obvious, you offer her shelter and support in her time of need.

Unbeknownst to you, said woman is a powerful and ancient being who now belongs to you in accordance with the old laws. This situation definitely won’t become complicated, right?

Word Count: 14.5k

Author's Note: A couple of months ago, I received an ask, seen below, and have not been able to stop thinking about it since. After a lot of brainstorming with the wonderful sender of the ask (not sure if they want to be named!), I finally sat down to write it.

So, here we are! This story took on a mind of its own the longer I wrote (perhaps the Muse Calliope paid me a visit haha), and it's genuinely something that I'm so proud to have produced. It's not necessarily an x reader fic—right now, though depending on reader reaction there may be future parts (including a Calliope/Morpheus POV of these events)—so I absolutely understand if you choose not to read, but I hope that you do. In the end, this is truly Calliope's story.

A story of empowerment, friendship, freedom, and self-discovery.

Content warnings for this work include allusions to sexual assault, general trauma, Richard Madoc, vomiting, kidnapping, realizations of inadvertent kidnapping, mentions of death, and Nightmare!Morpheus. Reader discretion is advised.

The man standing at the front of the room taps his fingers along the edge of his lectern, savoring the enraptured faces that stare back at him. For those in his class, this is expected of him—he always gets a dramatic air about him when he’s on the verge of making the point that he had been working towards for the entire lecture and looping it back to the thesis statement from the beginning of the hour. Though it was routine by now, practically tradition, the students still ate it up every time.

“The theme between all of these authors–the Fitzgeralds and the Hemingways, the Tolkeins and the Orwells–is that their words carry power and strength. While they may look like mere letters strung together on a sheet of paper, when read together, these words have a weight behind them. They can conjure up worlds, inspire the masses, make readers think critically; it’s a type of magic when you really think about it.”

He checks his watch before clapping his hands together in finality and smiling out at the room.

“Well, my friends, I’m afraid that’s all the time we have today. Thank you very much for joining me, and please make sure that you have your essays on the influences of World War One and its aftermath on the literature of the time ready for our next class. See you then!”

When your university announced that world-renowned author Ric Madoc would be a visiting professor for the semester, you immediately jumped on the long list of students interested in taking one of the three classes that were going to be taught by him. You had absolutely no hope that you would get into the class, not when it seemed like half the student body was also signed up, but you had to at least try. The Spirit Who Had Half of Everything was one of your favorite books of all time, and you’d be remiss not to attempt to learn from the master himself.

Somehow, much to your surprise, you had received an email informing you that you earned a spot in Madoc’s “Great Works of the 20th Century” class. The class had lived up to the hype so far and you were thoroughly enjoying it, even though it wasn’t exactly related to your field of study. In fact, you enjoyed it so much that you normally stayed behind with a group of students to continue having a discussion with Madoc about the aforementioned great works. Today, unfortunately, you couldn’t, having to rush out immediately after class was over to make it to your group project meeting in the library on time.

Of course, it’s difficult to get any sort of work done when one happens to be randomly paired with their best friend, but you’re trying your hardest.

“Psst.” You don’t look up, choosing instead to try and finish the sentence you’re writing, but a balled-up gum wrapper hits you smack in the center of the forehead. “Hey!”

After you’ve finished typing, you look across the table at Evie, your best friend. “Can I help you?” you ask.

“Do you wanna come out with me and a couple of others tonight?”

“It’s Thursday.”

She shrugs. “So?”

Points were made, and who are you to resist a good argument? “Convincing. I’m in! I just have to run home real quick and get changed.”

As you search through your bag, you start to feel your heart plummeting in your chest as you realize that you can’t find your keys. Digging through the contents furiously in the hopes that they’ll turn up yields no results, and neither does patting at the pockets you know are empty. With horror in your eyes and fear in your heart, you look back up at her.

“Fuck, I lost my keys.”

“Shit, dude. Do you remember where you last had them?”

“Um.” 

You have to think for a moment, mentally retracing your steps until you can definitively pinpoint the last time you saw your keys. They were with you in the parking lot, because you remember locking your car twice just to be sure that you did. From there, you would have been holding them in your hand as you walked to Madoc’s class. Considering you went straight from class to the library, there are limited options for where they could be. Either you left them in the lecture hall or you dropped them somewhere on campus. For your sake, you hope it’s the former.

On the syllabus, Madoc had given the class his work cell phone number in case of emergencies like being unable to make it to class or an act of God destroying your homework. Though you doubted you would need it at the time, you still saved it in your phone to be on the safe side. Now, as you pull up his contact and start a new conversation, you thank past-you for having such good foresight.

You: Hey, great class today! Did you happen to find a set of keys left behind in the lecture hall? I’m missing mine.

After a second of contemplation, you send another text with your first and last name when you realize he probably doesn’t know who it is texting him. It only takes a couple of anxious minutes before your phone chimes. 

Richard Madoc: Hello! Would these happen to be the keys in question?

Richard Madoc: Attachment

The keys are immediately recognizable as yours, thanks to the keychain of a possum wearing a cowboy hat that’s attached to them. You sigh in immense relief before glancing up at Evie, who’s been watching with bated breath the entire time. “I left them in Madoc’s class.”

“Oh thank god!”

You: They are! Any chance you’re still on campus so I can swing by and grab them?

Richard Madoc: I’m afraid I’ve already left for the day, but I live pretty close to the uni if you’d be willing to pick them up from my flat.

He sends an address in the following text, which you promptly input in your maps app so you can see where said address is located. It’s maybe a five-minute drive from campus and conveniently located in the direction of your apartment.

You: Will be there in a bit! Thank you :)

“He already left, I’d have to pick them up from his place,” you explain.

Evie immediately fixes you with a look, one that says she’s seen this particular move before (and she didn’t like the ending). “Do you want me to come with you?”

The unspoken words hang in the air between you: Do you feel safe going to an unfamiliar man’s house alone? Should I come to make sure nothing bad happens? It’s very thoughtful of her, and you consider saying yes for a moment.

But Evie lives in the opposite direction of you, and she doesn’t have a car. While you don’t know Madoc well, you’re also not expecting him to try anything on you, especially when it’s still light out. 

“I should be okay,” you say.

“You’re sure?” Evie double-checks, and you nod. “Call me before you get there, okay? Just…have me on the line, in your back pocket. It’d make me feel better about letting you go on your own.”

How did you get so lucky to have such a great friend like Evie? Of course, you would do the same for Evie in a heartbeat, but it’s so nice to have found a kindred spirit, someone who truly understands you and all your little quirks, so early in your adulthood.

“You’re not letting me do anything,” you tease. “But yeah, I’ll call you when I get there.”

“Thank you,” she says sincerely, sliding her papers and her laptop into her backpack. “Now let’s go. The sooner you get your keys, the sooner we can go and get drunk.”

It feels a little dumb to be driving such a short distance, from the campus to the address that Madoc had given you. You’re exactly the type of person that’s killing the planet with unnecessary carbon emissions when you could just as easily walk, you chastise yourself on the way over. 

But you had driven to class this morning, that being a distance actually too far to walk, and it would be stupid to walk to Madoc’s, get your keys, walk back to campus, and then drive home. So here you are, beating yourself up over something stupid and inconsequential while you try your best to parallel park in a respectable manner in front of Madoc’s little townhouse.

It’s exactly the type of lodgings you’d expect a university professor to have, yet almost the opposite of what you envisioned as a successful author’s home; a small, yet stately, townhouse with a little fenced-in front yard. Plants try their hardest to survive in the patch of dirt that’s probably supposed to be a garden, and there’s a small chair and table perfect for Sunday mornings sitting on the front stoop.

The gate creaks when you open it, and even more when you close it behind you. At the last second, you remember that you promised to call Evie, so you pull out your phone and do just that. 

“Hey, you there?” Evie answers her phone.

“Yeah, just got here. Putting you in my pocket now.”

Even though the idea felt a little like an overreaction, you can’t deny that you feel safer now knowing that Evie’s listening on the phone.

You knock on the dark blue front door once, twice, three times before taking a step back and waiting patiently. After about thirty seconds, you start to worry that Madoc’s not home. But no, that wouldn’t make sense; you talked to him maybe half an hour ago, and he knew that you were on your way to pick up your keys. Frowning, you knock again, followed by holding your ear to the door to see if you can hear anything.

He’s definitely inside. Though the sound is muffled, you can hear what sounds like him yelling at somebody through the door. Who the source of his ire is, you can’t say, because there’s nobody saying anything back to him. Maybe he’s having a really heated conversation on the phone? If that’s the case, it’s a pretty inconvenient time to launch into a virtual argument.

You don’t want to be rude and knock for a third separate time, but you really do need your keys, and you’d prefer to not be kept standing out here waiting. Begrudgingly, you knock yet again, putting a considerable amount of force behind it this time. 

“Mr. Madoc?” you call through the door, raising your voice enough that you’re sure he’s heard you. By the way that he suddenly falls silent, you’re assuming that you’ve been successful. Pulling back from your position right up against the door, you wait for him to appear.

When the door is yanked open, you’re shocked at what you see. Gone is the confident lecturer who stood at the front of your class this afternoon. The man in front of you looks positively haggard. His eyes are bloodshot and red-rimmed, and his bottom lip quivers almost as furiously as his hands shake. His hair is a mess, as though he’s been pulling at it, and his shirt is weirdly rumpled like he fell asleep in it.

You take a big step back when his eyes land wildly on you without really seeing you. Your hand goes to your back pocket, hovering just above your phone in case this encounter goes south and you need to have Evie do…something. Call the cops? Yell at Madoc through the phone? Scream? Whatever it is, though, she’ll do it for you.

“Hi. Um, you–”

Madoc shakes his head back and forth and begins to mumble something, completely ignoring you and your presence. He reaches one of his hands further inside the house, grabbing at something unseen. Your body tenses, preparing to fight this man that, up until two minutes ago, you had believed to be completely sane and rational.

His hand comes back into view, tightly gripping a woman’s upper arm. She’s barefoot and clad only in a thin silk nightgown, and you can see the goosebumps already appearing on her skin.

“A city in which the streets are paved with time,” he mumbles a little louder, allowing you to hear what he’s rambling about. “A train full of silent women, plowing forever through the twilight. Heads made of light. A small piece of blue cardboard. A plum, sweet and tart and cold.”

“Mr. Madoc, are you alright?” 

Instead of answering you, Madoc throws the woman across the threshold and towards you. You catch her in your arms, both of you stumbling backward, but you let go when you notice how she immediately tenses at your touch.

“She’s your problem now, I can’t do this anymore!” Madoc begins to pull at his hair, so hard that you think he might end up pulling it out of his head. “I refuse to be tortured any longer!”

“What are you talking about?” 

He’s lost his damn mind, you think to yourself as he continues to spout the most random of ideas. You thought that you had properly calculated the risks of coming over here on your own, but apparently, you’re bad at math.

“A were-goldfish who transforms into a wolf at full moon. Griffins shouldn’t marry. Vampires don’t dance.” Madoc shakes and smacks himself multiple times as if to try and snap himself out of whatever he’s gotten into. “A man who inherits a library card to the library in Alexandria. A rose bush, a nightingale, and a black rubber dog collar!”

You’re so thrown off by what you’re witnessing that you don’t even realize he’s closing the door until the sound of it hitting the doorframe reminds you why you’re here. You bang your fist against the door and yell at him, “Hey! Give me my fucking keys!” 

Madoc opens the door just enough to throw your keys at you, which you fumble and nearly drop until catching them by the stupid cowboy possum keychain, before slamming it shut again. From within, you can hear several locks clicking shut loudly in quick succession.

The speed with which this entire interaction has occurred leaves your head spinning, and you have to take a moment to realize that yes, what you just experienced was real. Even then, you stare at the door bemusedly. “What the fuck?”

“I do not believe he will be coming back,” an accented voice says from behind you.

You can’t stop the little scream of surprise that leaves you when you whip around to face the woman who, until this moment, you forgot had been kicked out of Madoc’s house. She stares at you, just as warily as you’re probably staring at her.

She’s otherworldly beautiful, with olive skin, dark hair, and dark eyes. But what stands out the most is just how visibly scared she is. She watches you like you’re a predator readying to attack. You hate it because you’d never do anything like that to anybody, but especially her. What had Madoc done to cause her to have this reaction to a stranger?

Evie’s voice rises tinnily from the phone in your back pocket, loud and panicked, and you remember that she’s been on the phone this whole time. You pull your phone out and hold it up to your ear, having to put a little distance between it due to how she’s yelling.

“—I swear, I’m two seconds away from calling the cops! Please just let me know you’re okay!”

“Evie, hey, I’m here,” you say, making her cry out in relief.

“Oh my god, are you okay? I was scared when I heard yelling!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright. Pretty sure I just watched Madoc have a mental breakdown?” Is that what that was? You can’t say for certain, considering this is your first such occasion.

“Seriously? Well, did you get your keys, at least?”

“After he finished rambling about were-goldfish and plums.”

“Jesus Christ. Are you going to call somebody?”

“Who would I call? And anyway, maybe this is normal for him.”

“If that’s normal, I’d hate to see what abnormal is.” She sighs. “So, I’ll see you soon?”

“Um,” you trail off, looking at the woman. “Y’know, I might take a rain check, if that’s okay. I’m a little shaken up by everything that just happened.”

“I bet, that sounds like it was really scary. We’ll miss you, but take care of yourself. If you do decide to come out, just text me and I’ll tell you where we’re at.”

“Thanks, Ev. I’ll, uh, talk to you soon.”

You hang up the phone, and now you and the woman are left awkwardly staring at each other. How are you supposed to approach a situation like this? Sliding your phone back into your pocket, you hold your hands with the palms facing out so that she can see you’re not holding any weapons and decide to just start from the beginning.

“Hi.”

She nods back in greeting, trying to hold herself with as much dignity as she can in this situation. The chill of the night and her lack of proper clothing leave her trembling in front of you, though some of that is likely from fear too, and you can see bruises in various shades of healing up and down her arms. Worse, there are visible fingerprint-shaped bruises ringing her neck. Though you’ve never been particularly violent, you’re tempted to break down Madoc’s door and do unto him what he’s obviously done to this woman.

“Are you cold? I have a spare jacket if you want it.” You point the hundred or so feet to where your car sits. “Here, let’s go over to my car, I’m just parked on the street right there.”

The woman attempts to gauge you and, presumably, your intentions. Though this is her decision to make, you give her a friendly smile in the hopes of convincing her that you have no ill will toward her. After a moment, she nods hesitantly.

You take the lead as you walk down the front path to your car, mainly to show that she holds the power here. There will be nobody sneaking up on this woman or trying anything, and she’s free to run far away from you if that’s what she chooses. 

Still, she follows you, and waits patiently while you dig around in your back seat until you finally come up with the light jacket that you had tossed back there after an outdoor movie night. You hand it to her and she shrugs it on, holding it tightly around her and trying to hide within the cotton fabric.

You don’t want to ask the question that’s on your mind, but you know that you have to. You need some sort of context for the situation. “Was…Madoc keeping you locked up in there?” She nods, and you feel your stomach roil with sick nausea. “Okay. We need to call the cops, so they can come and arrest him.”

“No!” she says firmly, a departure from how soft-spoken she previously was. “Please, I beg you, no authorities.”

“But…” 

Maybe he hadn’t kidnapped her like you found yourself assuming at first. Perhaps this is a severe case of domestic violence? Regardless, she looks like the poster child for abused women, and you’re not about to disrespect her wishes when this is probably the first choice she’s been able to make for herself in a long time.

“Okay,” you agree. “No cops.” 

“Thank you.” She sounds so relieved that it makes you want to cry.

An idea begins to form in your head, but one that you’re not sure how to begin to broach. After all, the woman in front of you has absolutely no reason to trust you. “I’m guessing you don’t have anywhere to go?”

She shakes her head. “No, I have…nowhere, and nobody.”

That settles it. You’re not about to leave a battered, formerly-trapped woman to fend for herself on the streets. “So listen. I have a spare room at my place, and you’re completely welcome to it for as long as you need.”

“Oh, I could not impose.”

“You wouldn’t be!” you assure her. “Please, it’s the least I can do. At least until you get back on your feet.”

She studies you again. Though you don’t know what she’s looking for, you can tell that she’s the kind of intuitive person that sees beyond that which is only skin-deep. Finally, she says, “Alright.”

You grin and open the passenger side door, gesturing for her to get in. “Alright.”

After getting the car started and the heat turned up all the way, you watch as the woman fiddles with the airflow of the heater until it’s blowing directly on her delicate hands, which she holds in front of her to warm up. She looks at you as if realizing for the first time that you could betray her trust much in the same way as Ric Madoc had. To prove to her that you won’t, you unlock the doors when they try to lock automatically in response to you putting the car in ‘drive’.

You tell her your name, and for the first time, she smiles. It’s a small thing, barely a quirk of the lips, but it’s there. “I am Calliope.”

“Oh cool, like the Muse!” Her smile widens until she’s actually smiling, leaving you delighted. “Your parents were into Greek mythology, then?”

“Something like that, yes.”

As you drive to your apartment, Calliope turns in her seat and watches as Madoc’s apartment grows smaller and smaller behind your car. Even after it’s disappeared behind turns and other buildings, she still watches, perhaps waiting for him to come back to his senses and come after her. But there will be none of that tonight, or ever again. Not as long as you have anything to do about it.

When you get home, you continue the routine of taking the lead and allowing Calliope to decide whether or not she wants to follow you. Calliope lingers in the entryway of your apartment, taking her time carefully cataloging everything that she can see as you work at getting the lights turned on and trying to clean up a little bit—after all, you hadn’t exactly expected a houseguest when you left for class this morning. 

She runs her fingers along the walls and the frames of artwork that you’ve acquired at festivals and flea markets. She feels the coats on your coat rack, and her dark, inquisitive eyes scan over the battered toaster and soft fruit in your kitchen. As she walks further into your home, she takes care to take up as little space as possible until she reaches where you stand in front of a closed door.

“My old roommate moved in with their girlfriend a couple of months ago, and they don’t know what they want to do with her furniture, so they’re just storing it here until they can figure it out,” you explain as you open the door and flick on the light switch to reveal a bare bedroom. It’s sparsely furnished, with just a full bed, a nightstand, a dresser, and a desk and chair. “Now, it’s yours.”

“Mine?”

“For as long as you need it,” you repeat.

Hesitantly stepping inside, Calliope looks over the room before nodding in satisfaction. You can only hope that she had a space of her own in Madoc’s house, but by the way that she looks around like she’s never seen something so wonderful as an empty bedroom before, you’re left with a sinking feeling that this wasn’t the case.

“So! I’ll grab some sheets and a blanket from the linen closet and get the bed made up for you. Um, all of the doors lock on the inside, so feel free to keep yourself and your space private. Do you want to take a shower? Because you definitely can. Avery—that’s my old roommate—left some of the clothes they didn’t want behind, and they’re about your size, I think.” You’re rambling, but you just want to make her feel as welcome as possible. 

“A shower would be…nice,” Calliope decides.

“Awesome! The bathroom’s right through here, c’mon.”

In the bathroom, Calliope watches as you grab a couple of towels from the closet, along with the sheets and blanket you mentioned earlier. You set the towels down on the closed toilet lid next to the shower.

“Feel free to use any of my stuff here, it’s totally fine,” you explain, pulling back the shower curtain so Calliope can see your haircare products and body wash.

Instead of looking over that array, she simply stares at the chrome of the shower faucet in confusion.

“Oh yeah, the shower’s a little weird here. All you have to do is turn the handle, and then pull the plug on the faucet for the shower.” You show her as you explain it. “Turn the handle left for hot water, and right for cold. Got it?”

“I believe so.”

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it, then. Just yell if you need anything from me.”

You close the bathroom door behind you and after a long moment, you finally hear the lock turn.

Good. In the meantime, you’ll make a quick meal for her, in case she’s hungry. Plus, you need to keep your hands busy. It will help take your mind off of the horrors you’re trying desperately to forget that you witnessed.

•••

Four days later, Evie runs up to you on campus when she sees you and wraps both of her hands around your upper arm before pulling you towards her. “Did you hear?”

“What?” You’re more focused on not falling over your feet at the sudden change of pace you’ve been forced into than you are wondering what you did or didn’t hear.

“You were right. Mr. Madoc had a complete mental breakdown! Somebody called in a welfare check on him, and the cops found him curled up in a ball mumbling gibberish. He hadn’t moved for days. You know the worst part, though?” 

You shake your head. 

“He covered every single wall of his house with the most random words and phrases, and they were all written in his own blood.”

You reel back. “Jesus!”

“I know, totally gory.” By her laugh, you can tell that she enjoys the gore.

It’s at this moment that you realize that you haven’t told Evie anything about what happened after you hung up with her that night. It certainly wasn’t deliberate; you’ve just been so caught up in the sudden change in your living arrangements that you haven’t had the time to text or call her about what you went through.

With that in mind, you say, “I have something to tell you.”

Evie’s eyes immediately light up at the prospect of gossip. “You do?”

You nod. “That night, when I went to his house? He grabbed this woman from inside his house and just threw her at me, saying that she was my problem now. She was all bruised and wearing nothing but a nightgown, and he treated her like she was his property. Evie, she said he kept her trapped there.”

“What the fuck.” Evie stares at you in horror. “Is she okay now?”

“Physically, yeah. She’s staying with me.”

“At your apartment?”

“Where else? Her name’s Calliope. I’m letting her stay in Avery’s old room until she gets back on her feet again.”

Evie whistles lowly. “I can’t tell if that’s kind of you or stupid of you.”

“Probably both.”

“Yeah, probably.” 

As you walk, an astute observation comes to your mind. “Y’know, it makes sense that he’s such a piece of shit. Now that I think about it, the only authors we ever discussed in class were white guys.”

“Hmm, typical white man.” Evie rolls her eyes before she grins. “Hey, can I meet her?”

“Calliope?”

“Who else?”

You have to think about that for a minute. Would she be comfortable with meeting new people and putting herself out there? While you think that your friends are great, especially Evie, you just don’t want to force her into anything before she’s ready.

Evie seems to sense this hesitation, and explains, “She just seems like she needs some friends. A support system might be good for her while she tries to get her life back!”

“I can’t make any promises, but I’ll ask her if she wants to do something like that.”

“That’s all I ask,” Evie says. “In the meantime, is there anything that I can do to help? Like, does she need clothes? Kiara’s aunt owns that boutique, and she would probably be willing to help out.”

That’s a good idea and one that you hadn’t even considered. Obviously, Calliope’s going to want some clothes of her own instead of Avery’s hand-me-downs. It’ll probably help her to feel more like a human being, one with choice and agency over herself.

“Oh, would you ask her to talk to her aunt?” you ask. “That’d be great.” 

Evie nods. “Definitely. I feel like that’s, like, the least I can do.”

“I wish there was more that I could do,” you admit.

“You’re doing what you can, and that’s what matters. Hell, most people wouldn’t have even offered to let a woman in Calliope’s situation stay with them. You’re a good person, you know that?”

“Thanks.”

“Eh, what are friends for, if not to reassure you that taking in a random woman on a whim is the right idea?” You huff in mock anger, and Evie laughs. “Anyways, you’ll never guess what the university is trying to do about the whole Madoc situation now…”

•••

Calliope doesn’t come out of her room when you’re around, not that you blame her. If you had gone through even an ounce of what you suspect she had, you’d want to be safe and alone for a long time, no matter how nice your new roommate is (and you like to think you’re pretty nice). You hear her sneak around when she knows that you’re in your own bedroom, as quiet as a mouse, and every night without fail, she takes a long shower. Other than that, it feels like you’re still living alone.

Since you don’t know how often she’s eating, and she doesn’t leave dishes or any sort of indication that she’s getting food for herself, you leave meals out in front of her door for her, breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Sticky notes accompany them, because you have things that you want her to know and this is the only way to communicate with her right now.

“Feel free to grab food from the kitchen whenever you want!”

“I have great books, and you’re more than welcome to them.”

“If you find yourself wanting to watch TV, the remote is on the coffee table!”

Each message is signed with a smiley face, and each one is gone when the empty tray is returned outside her door.

The empty trays and, eventually, the books that go missing from your bookshelf are the only signs of life that you receive from Calliope. 

When Calliope finally emerges while you’re home and not in your room, it’s six days after Ric Madoc threw her into your arms. You’re sitting on your couch reading fanfiction, a random YouTube video playing in the background when Calliope’s door creaks open and she peeks her head out hesitantly. Immediately you pause the video, smiling brightly when she notices you looking at her.

“Hi!” you greet.

“Hello.” She slowly exits her room clutching the book she’s been reading, as skittish as a feral kitten, and you slide over on the couch before patting the now-empty other side in invitation.

“You can come sit if you want. I’m just reading.”

“What are you reading?” Calliope asks, perching on the edge of the cushion as though she’s preparing for escape at any moment.

The smile freezes on your face. Just because you’re happy your new roommate is here doesn’t mean you’re about to out yourself as a fanfiction reader. “Oh, just a fantasy book.”

“Why do you have that…television on, then?” Calliope says this as though she’s still unfamiliar with the concept of television.

“I like the background noise of putting on shows that I’ve already seen. Helps me focus.”

She looks at you like that’s one of the oddest things she’s ever heard. Maybe it is, but it’s your little habit, and it has been for so long that it’s normal now. You hit play again, and Calliope starts a bit as sound comes through the speakers on the TV. Funnily, even though she seems to not understand your reasoning, the sound itself helps her to relax enough that she’s sitting on the couch with you instead of hovering like she’s preparing to bolt at any moment.

You don’t say anything, not wanting to make her think that you’re dictating what she can and cannot do. Eventually, Calliope decides to follow your lead and open her book, though she keeps getting distracted by the TV and eventually forgoes the book entirely in favor of watching the show.

“The tall one does not believe in ghosts, but the little one does?” Calliope asks out of the blue. You swallow down your laugh at her description of the hosts and nod.

“Mhm, and that’s what makes the show so good, is that dichotomy between the two hosts. One is so serious about everything they do, every noise that they hear, and the other is just dancing around and begging the demons to possess him or whatever because he thinks they’re not real and so saying this stuff can’t hurt him.”

She watches silently for another few minutes before asking, “Why are they searching for ghosts in the first place?”

“Well, because people love trying to solve the unsolved. And I think ghosts and the question of their existence is one of the ultimate unsolved mysteries.” She nods in satisfaction and turns back to the show, and you decide to turn off your phone and join her.

Calliope, as it turns out, enjoys television, if only for the strange concepts of some of the shows. You’re more than happy to show her all of the strangest and best shows, with the bonus of getting to see them anew through her eyes, which seem to be watching everything for the very first time.

•••

It’s mid-afternoon, and instead of being outside on what’s turning out to be a beautiful day, you’re stuck doing homework.

Everybody had assumed that Ric Madoc’s classes would be canceled after his abrupt admission into the Saint Dymphna Mental Health Hospital. The university, however, not wanting to just give out automatic passing grades without merit, had scrambled to try and find professors to teach Madoc’s classes. Somehow, they had succeeded, and you were now once again immersed in the world of 20th-century authors. Though your new professor didn’t have the ability to truly capture a room in the same way Madoc had, she was a fine replacement, and she devoted a good chunk of class time to women authors.

It’s too nice of a day to not take advantage of, though. That first true spring day after a long, harsh winter has finally arrived, and you won’t let it pass you by. All of the windows are open to allow the stale air of the apartment to dissipate, and as you write, you listen to the birds chirping and people doing yard work. Maybe, if you finish quickly enough, you’ll be able to take a walk yourself. 

Calliope would probably enjoy that as well, you think.

The woman in question knocks on your open bedroom door, and you look up at her with a smile from your desk. She clocks the computer and the notes spread around you and grows sheepish.

“I’m sorry, you are busy. I’ll–”

“No, don’t worry! Just finishing up an essay for a class. Got a crazy burst of motivation for it, and ended up knocking it out in a couple of hours. It’ll be good to look away from the screen.” 

Calliope gets that funny little smile on her face, the one that says that she has found something amusing but is going to keep it to herself. She waits patiently as you stretch, wincing when she hears the way that your shoulders pop and crack after hours of stagnancy.

“What’s up?” you ask. “You seem like you want to ask me something.”

Calliope points out of your bedroom. “What is out there?”

You stand so that you can see what it is she’s referencing, and find that she’s pointing to your sliding door.

“Oh, it’s a little balcony. I don’t go out there much right now, still a little too chilly, but it’ll be nice to sit out there once summer comes. Here, I’ll show you.”

It’s the first time this season that it’s been nice enough to have the door open, which is probably why she’s only just now realized it’s there. You open the screen door and lead her out onto your balcony. It’s small, but you spent last summer adding to it and making it a comforting place to relax. Now, there are lights strung up above your heads, and there are two chairs with a table in between them. Planters sit lined up along the iron of the balcony railing, ready to be filled when planting season comes around.

Calliope gasps, and you’re about to ask what’s wrong (part of you is worried that a snake managed to find its way up to the third floor), when she tilts her face up to the sun, leaning over the railing to try and get as much of the light on her as possible. She looks like a painting come to life, probably with a name like “Muse Bathed in the Sun”, because truly, Calliope seems like the type of person to inspire every person lucky enough to make her acquaintance. 

“Helios,” you hear Calliope whisper reverently. 

It’s obvious that she isn’t aware that she said that out loud, and you start to feel embarrassed before she turns back to you with a true smile and tears running down her face.

“I have not been outside in the sun in so long.” 

She explains this simply and factually, as if she’s talking about why the sun is where it is and not about all that she was deprived of during her captivity. Madoc didn’t even let her go outside. It’s a good thing that he’s under secure watch 24/7, because there have been many times over the almost-three weeks that Calliope has lived with you that you have wished to be able to go and inflict upon him a modicum of that which he did to Calliope.

Now tears are running down your face too, and you wipe at them harshly with the backs of your hands. This is Calliope’s moment, Calliope’s joy, and you won’t have her feeling sorry for making you experience such happiness and broken-heartedness by watching her.

“It’s here no matter what. Even if it’s a little cold, bring a blanket out and sit whenever you want. Soon, we’ll be able to plant some stuff. You can help me if you want!”

Calliope’s back to facing the sun directly, but she still nods to let you know that it’s a good idea. Quietly, you back up into the apartment and close the screen door behind you, letting her have this time of reconnection to herself.

Most mornings after this rediscovery, you find Calliope already sitting on the balcony by the time you wake up, a blanket around her shoulders, a mug of something hot in her hands, a book on her lap, and the sun bathing her skin.

•••

“Y’know what, I’m gonna give that one a three.”

“A three?” Calliope tuts. “That is cruel. His performance was at least a six.”

“C’mon Cal, you’re just saying that because you see the best in everybody! The rest of us saw a douchey frat bro drunkenly singing ‘SexyBack,’ which earned him a three. And that’s me being generous.”

Calliope and your friend Ethan are, of course, judging the karaoke performances of the bar patrons brave (or stupid) enough to sing in front of others. They, along with your friend Kiara, take this tradition very seriously. For every performance, the three of them have detailed notes and a rating out of ten to go along with it. 

You had finally given in to Evie’s pleadings and decided to broach the subject of going out in public to Calliope. Much to your surprise, she accepted when you first invited her to karaoke night with your friends at the group’s favorite bar. She accepted when you offered to bring her to trivia, and she accepted when your friends finally got around to doing a book club meeting—which was mainly just drinking and eating appetizers while you talked about the books you’d read, but it still counted. 

(Taking Calliope to her first drag show quickly became one of your favorite and most cherished memories)

She took to your friend group like a duck to water, and in return, they embraced her wholeheartedly. Now, none of you could imagine a life without her in it. 

And slowly, it seemed as though Calliope began to start to heal. With every bar meetup, movie night, or random coffee date, you saw a bit more light return back to Calliope. Flashes of the woman that she once was, vibrant and funny and elegant and wise, begin to become more frequent as the days pass. Every time she allows for a hug or every time she smirks into her glass after saying something that has the group erupting in laughter, she becomes more and more herself.

“Oh my god, it’s our turn!” Ethan yells suddenly after the karaoke emcee calls his and Evie’s names. He stands and holds his hand out to Evie, who happily takes it and jumps up with him. “Let’s go knock some socks off.”

This will either go one of two ways. They’ll either perform their serious song, “Bennie and the Jets,” which they’re surprisingly good at, or they’ll go funny and perform the Sharpay and Ryan version of “What I’ve Been Lookin’ For” from High School Musical, which they’re also really good at. By their tipsy giggles, you’re guessing it’s the latter.

The second they both start doing the Sharpay and Ryan hype-up routine, Kiara sighs and grabs her drink and phone.

“I promised these dumbasses I’d film them the next time they performed this,” she explains before going to work as an unpaid videographer.

Throughout their entire routine, Calliope’s enthralled, as she should be. It’s a good performance, of course, but Evie and Ethan together are a true comedic duo. The matching jazz squares during the instrumentals truly bring the whole piece together, and you’re in tears from laughter by the end of their routine. When they return to the table after a rousing standing ovation from the patrons of the bar, Calliope gives them her own round of applause and beams.

Naturally, she bestows upon them the highest ranking one can receive during karaoke nights. “Now that was a ten.”

Ethan bows as Evie kisses Calliope’s cheek. “Thank you, m’lady,” he says proudly.

“When do you get the time to practice this?”

“Nights like this, usually,” Evie explains before Ethan interrupts.

“Though we have been known to skip a class or two when we were trying to work out the kinks in our performance.” Ethan picks up his drink before frowning when he sees there’s nothing but melting ice cubes in the glass. “Well, apparently I need another drink. Anybody else?”

Everyone at the table shakes their head, but Kiara reaches into her jacket. “No, but I am gonna go hit my pen.”

“Ooh, I’ll come with you,” Evie volunteers cheerfully.

“Weed thief,” Kiara teases.

“Are you telling me no?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“That’s not a no!”

Your friends go their separate ways, leaving you and Calliope to sit alone at the table. The next singer has already started, and you grin when you hear what it is.

“Oh, I love this song,” you tell Calliope before singing along. “‘Cause I’m dreaming of you tonight, ‘til tomorrow I’ll be holding you tight!”

Beside you, Calliope grows a little gloomy. She’s frowning a bit; even if it’s barely there, you can always tell because it completely transforms her beautiful face into something so sad. You stop humming and look over at her, watching as she slowly swirls her straw in her drink repeatedly to give her something to do.

“Having fun?” you ask, slightly worried at the sudden melancholy that seems to have draped over her like a shroud.

“Yes,” she tries to assure you, but it sounds clipped, like she’s holding back.

“You know you don’t have to come just because I invited you, right? You can do whatever you want.” You never want her to feel as though you’re forcing her to do anything, and even though she’s been having fun up until now, there’s still that anxiety that tells you that she’s just going along with it because she feels like she owes you.

“I know,” Calliope assures. “But I enjoy you and your group of friends. You make me feel…welcomed, and accepted, in a way that I have not felt in a long time.” 

“They’re your friends now too. Pretty sure they decided that the second they met you.”

“I consider them friends as well. I consider you a friend as well, though I hope you know that by now.” She smiles down at her drink. “Besides, I quite like the karaoke nights.”

“I can tell. You never sing with us, though.”

“I don’t need to, I just enjoy listening. The people singing, and enjoying themselves, it reminds me of my son. He, too, loved to sing, and he was gifted with such a beautiful voice.”

“You have a son?” This takes you by surprise. Though Calliope seems to be very maternal, she’s never mentioned anything about a child until now. The fact that she talks about him in the past tense has your heart sinking into your stomach from the implications.

Calliope nods. “My sweet boy, my Orpheus. He was beautiful, and heartbreakingly sweet. He had a voice that could bring even the gods themselves to tears. He was taken from me…far too soon, and I miss him every day, with every fiber of my being. Being here, among so many people happy and making music—I see his face in all of theirs, and it brings me some sense of peace, to know that I can find pieces of him here, in the most unlikely of places..”

It’s sweet that she kept the Greek mythology theme going with her own son, you think, though it’s tragic that he suffered the same fate as his namesake.

“He was so lucky to have a mom like you, Calliope. Any child would be.” You lick your lips and taste the sweetness of alcohol on them as you ponder what to say next. “His life might have ended too soon, but he knew that he was completely and truly loved until the very end, which is such a gift.”

Tears well up in Calliope’s eyes, and she dabs at them with a napkin grabbed hastily from the table. “Thank you,” she chokes out. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

“Ah, now you’re gonna go and make me cry too. Can I hug you?” 

You always, always ask for permission before hugging her or touching her. She doesn’t seem to mind anymore when friends do it without asking, but you can’t break yourself of the habit. 

Not after seeing what you saw the night that you met her.

She doesn’t give you an answer in the form of words. Instead, she simply falls into your arms, both of you clinging to the other.

From behind you, Ethan whispers, “Uh, are we interrupting something?”

•••

Evie has a date tonight and is naturally freaking out about it. She doesn’t know what to wear, she doesn’t know what she’s going to say, she doesn’t know if she’s even going to like the girl. Though you can provide her with all of the moral support in the world, there’s only one problem that you can currently help her with, which is how she ends up rifling furiously through your closet on a random Wednesday night.

You and Calliope sit on your bed, watching as Evie grabs different outfits and either critiques them herself or holds them up for you to do so. This is a tried-and-true routine for you, but Calliope’s experiencing the joys of helping a friend in need pick out a first date outfit for the first time. As a result, she puts far more thought into her responses when Evie asks for an opinion.

“You know, I believe I may have just the shirt for you in my room,” Calliope says after the outfit rejections have reached double digits. “Come.”

Calliope has truly made her room her own in the almost two months that she’s lived here, which makes you so happy to see. She’s decorated with items found antiquing (Calliope always manages to come out of an antique store with a haul—you think it's her superpower), and her room has an actual personality now.

She goes to her closet and begins searching through it before finding what she’s looking for; a white blouse with bell sleeves and delicate embroidering along the cuffs and collar. It’s beautiful, and exactly what Evie was looking for. Her attention, however, is drawn to something else in the closet, and she grabs at one of the hangers after approving Calliope’s choice. To your surprise, Evie comes up holding a cream-colored, silk nightgown.

“Wait, Cal, you still have the nightgown you were wearing the night you got away?” you ask.

It would be cruel to say anything more than the most vague descriptions regarding Calliope’s imprisonment. Nobody particularly wanted to remind her of that dark time in her life, so great care was taken to make it the least bit triggering as possible when it needed to be brought up.

She nods. 

“Why?”

Calliope thinks about that for a moment. “I am not sure, to be honest. I certainly do not want to keep a relic of such a terrible time, but throwing it away does not feel…right.”

Evie perks up. “Ooh, y’know what we should do? We should burn that bitch!”

Calliope looks perturbed. “I thought you said that he is still in a mental hospital? Besides, I believe that immolation is still a crime.”

You and Evie both laugh when you realize that Calliope thought she was talking about Madoc.

“Not that bitch, though you’re giving me great ideas. I meant that we should burn the dress. I saw it on TikTok; these friends did a ‘burn and release’ ritual. They had a fire going in their backyard, and they all wrote down and talked about things that they wanted to release before burning it and physically releasing themselves of that. It looks like it’s super empowering, and it might give you the closure that it seems like you’re looking for.”

She doesn’t say anything, but you can tell that she’s intrigued. 

“We’d participate, too,” you chime in, Evie nodding along with you. “I think we all have things we want to burn so that we can give ourselves permission to move on.”

“I would like that, I think.”

Evie smiles. “Perfect. Leave it to me.”

It only takes Evie a couple of days to coordinate everything. Her parents live just outside of town, and they happily offer up their backyard to their daughter and her group of friends. When you and Calliope arrive, there’s already a fire pit set up with a ring of camping chairs surrounding it. Kiara waves from one of the chairs, a bag of marshmallows sitting in her lap, as Evie works at getting the fire going.

“Yay, you made it!” she says when she can finally trust the fire to not go out the moment she looks away from it.

Calliope nods graciously. “Thank you for hosting us this evening.”

“You’re so formal sometimes! If anything, I should be the one thanking you for going along with my crazy idea.”

“I do not think it is crazy at all,” Calliope assures.

“We’ll see, won’t we? Anyways, pens and paper are over in the empty chair next to Kiara, and there will be drinks and snacks momentarily.” Evie turns to you. “Wanna help me grab said drinks and snacks? I need an extra set of hands.”

After helping Evie with procuring and setting out a few bottles of wine, plastic cups, and a bunch of different snacks, the four of you each pick up a pen and paper and begin to write. Calliope writes furiously, her pen seeming to fly over the paper as she jots down her thoughts, and is done first as a result. The rest of you take a bit longer to write, needing to stop and think about what you want to put down before you do so.

In a group chat, you, Kiara, and Evie had decided that one of you would automatically go first, to make Calliope feel comfortable about participating. When you’ve all finished writing, Kiara stands and clears her throat.

“Well, guess I’m first up,” she says.

In hindsight, you should have guessed how emotional a night of talking about things that you need to release and then burning them as a physical manifestation would be. Still, the teary eyes from everybody when Kiara finishes reading her letter to her ex-best friend and tosses it, along with a small box of mementos, into the fire catch you off-guard. Though you said that everybody had things that they needed to release the night that Evie first brought this up, you just didn’t realize that everyone was carrying their own burdens that, to them, are just as heavy as Calliope’s is to her.

You volunteer to go next, reading about how you release all of the expectations that you’ve had about your life and where it’s meant to go. Even before Calliope arrived in your life, you struggled with the idea that your life was not going according to the plan that you had in mind. You weren’t hitting milestones that you had plotted out, and your life “schedule” kept imploding time and time again. Now, you hope to be rid of that, and the constant feeling that you’re failing yourself and your life. 

As you watch the paper burn in the flames, you try to convince yourself that all of those feelings are burning along with it.

Evie follows, with a big “fuck you” to her biological dad, who she recently found out only tried to form a relationship with her so that he could get money from her. It’s such a terrible situation, and though she’s handled it with her classic brand of humor, you can all see the hurt that she carries with her. Her letter is funny and biting and makes you all laugh, but she’s openly crying by the time she tosses it into the fire, and she gets a long hug from each of you after.

Finally, it’s Calliope’s turn, and she takes a long moment to stand. She’s been holding your hand since you finished reading her letter, and you give her a comforting squeeze before letting go so she can properly hold the letter. After taking a deep breath, she looks around the fire at the encouraging faces before her before she begins.

“I have often lived my life in the service of others, though most of the time, it was something that I willingly and happily did. That choice was removed from me when I was stolen from my home and bound to a truly vile and horrid man. He took everything from me. My thoughts, my inspiration, my—” Calliope’s voice breaks. “My body. Nothing was mine anymore, and I was told that that was how it should be, that it was the natural order of the world. He beat me down, physically and emotionally, to the point where I started to believe it. 

“Though I had long since lost hope, I prayed for some sort of salvation, and I prayed to whomever I could think of. Nobody answered, either because they could not or would not, and I believed myself truly alone. Eventually, my former lover, Morpheus, was the only one who could, or would, help me, and even then, there was only so much that he could do. I do not fault him for that, because he did the most that was possible for him to do.

“And then one day, somebody knocked on the door of my prison and demanded their keys back.” She looks at you with a wobbly smile, and you sniffle in an attempt to hold back tears. “I know not why that was the tipping point for my captor, and frankly, nor do I care. He threw me out like trash, but I was not really in a place to question a gift such as this. And it truly has been a gift for me. In the two months since I escaped captivity, I have been able to heal, slowly but surely, even though I did not think such a thing was possible. I have found my laugh once more. I am free to do whatever I want, whenever I want. To sit in the sun, or read a book, or be with my friends.”

Calliope picks up the nightgown from where it sat next to her chair. “With this, I release every last hold that my captivity has had on me. From now on, when I think about that time, I shall think about survival, and how I refused to be kept down. I am free, and I shall remain forever free.”

She tosses the dress and the letter into the fire, watching intently as the flames catch the fabric and begin to work through it. Then, she laughs. Her laugh is beautiful and like the peals of bells, and it’s infectious too. Soon you’re all laughing, and you all have the same idea to hug Calliope. It turns into a group hug, the four of you laughing and hugging and watching as the smoke of the fire carries away that which you do not want to carry with you any longer.

•••

Calliope takes her time getting out of the car when you arrive back home, still basking in the euphoria of emotional release. When she turns to look at you, you already know what she’s going to say.

“Go in without me.” She sighs happily and looks up at the moon. “I wish to remain outside for a moment longer.”

You squeeze her shoulder before letting go. “Alright. The door’ll be unlocked whenever you decide you’re finished.”

You hum while unlocking the door, kicking your shoes off and hearing them thump against the wall of the entryway. Fumbling, you curse under your breath as you try to find the light switch—really, you’d think that after living here for almost a year, you’d be able to turn the lights on on the first try.

Light finally floods the room, and your humming resumes as you head into the kitchen to grab a drink. There’s a chill in the air, more figurative than literal, that causes goosebumps to rise on your skin. Your heartbeat quickens as you remove a glass from the cabinet, like your reflexes are trying to warn you of some unseen danger. Nervously, you hum a little louder while filling your glass up in the hopes that you’ll feel better. 

You don’t. How could you, when you look over the kitchen island into the living room and see a figure standing silhouetted against the back door? In fact, you feel much worse than nervous; now, you’re scared out of your wits, enough so that you scream upon realizing that there’s actually a man in your home, a man who is most definitely not supposed to be here.

You scream.

“Hello.” 

The man’s voice is deep, deeper than you think you’ve ever heard before. If he wasn’t currently in the act of breaking into your home, you’d think about how nice of a voice it is. Right now, it’s simply disturbing.

His eyes seem to twinkle in the darkness before he takes a step toward you, thus putting himself in the light. He’s paler than any living being you’ve ever seen, with long, unkempt black hair and cold blue eyes that seem like they can tell everything about you just from looking at you. He’s dressed in all black, with a long black coat completing his ensemble.

He’s not human, that much you’re sure of. You’ve spent enough time around Calliope in the past couple of months to guess that she is something more, and this stranger is the same. Power radiates off of him in waves, the same as it does with Calliope. Both are ethereally, sharply beautiful, in a way that lets lesser beings know that these are the true apex predators.

Even though it probably won’t help (now that you have the barest idea of what you’re dealing with), you pick up a kitchen knife from the dish rack and brandish it in front of you, thankful that you had cut up an apple last night and thus had needed your largest knife to do so. 

“Get the fuck out of my apartment!” 

He doesn’t move, choosing instead to just keep staring at you with those piercing eyes. You come out from behind the island, still holding the knife towards him. 

“Seriously, leave or I’m calling the cops,” you threaten, pulling your phone out of your pocket with your free hand.

This decision quickly has the situation going from bad to worse. The man seems to cross the entire room in a single step before slamming you against the wall, one hand wrapped dangerously tight around your throat. You gasp at the sudden violence, as well as the strength that he possesses under his lean figure, and both the knife and the phone fall from your hands as you try to figure out what to do. 

“Be quiet, mortal,” he spits venomously, his hand flexing around your throat. You attempt to grab at his hand to get him off of you, but he doesn’t budge. When you try to kick at him, he just leans more of his weight against you and renders you virtually immobile. “You are keeping a woman here, against her will. You will release her immediately, or suffer the most dire of consequences.”

“What? No, I’m not!” you argue.

Is he talking about Calliope? If so, he’s about two months too late in coming to her rescue. The only one that was holding her against her will was Ric Madoc, and he’s facing his own set of consequences for what he did.

Speak of the devil. Calliope chooses this moment to come in from her nighttime sojourn. You and your attacker both stare at the door as Calliope enters the apartment. She’s humming, much as you had when you first came in, completely in her own little world.

“Cal!” you cry out helplessly in an attempt to warn her, the only sound you can make before the man’s hand tightens again and cuts off all but a bit of your air supply. If given the chance, you’re not sure if you would tell her to run or ask for her help.

She takes stock of the situation before her with calculated eyes. Instead of surprise, shock, or fear, Calliope just looks…angry. Her bag drops to the floor next to her feet, and she makes sure to shut and lock the door behind her.

“Let them go, Oneiros,” Calliope commands, her hand landing on his shoulder.

Wait, Calliope knows him? Internally, you chastise yourself; obviously, she knows him, she called him by name! Still, you find yourself confused. She hasn’t mentioned having any contacts in the area. In fact, you distinctly remember her saying that she had “nobody” that first night you met her.

The intruder—Oneiros, apparently—does as Calliope asks, and you slide to the floor without his interference keeping you upright. Calliope slides down with you, landing on her knees in front of you as she looks you over with her big, brown eyes.

“Are you alright?” she asks, using her thumbs to wipe away your tears, tears that you weren’t aware you were shedding.

You nod. “I–I think so.” 

Despite your reassurance, your hand goes to your throat, and you try to rub away the soreness that’s already settling beneath the skin. When she begins to rub her hands up and down your arms, you realize that you’re shaking violently. Calliope stands and briefly leaves the room, leaving you and Oneiros in awkward silence until she returns with a blanket, which she gently wraps around you.

After she’s completed this task, Calliope wheels around to point accusingly at the man. “You are a fool, and you allow yourself to act without first thinking far too often.”

“Calliope–” he tries to interrupt, but Calliope shakes her head.

“What are you doing here?” she demands.

He scowls. “You called for me again, did you not?” 

“I did no such thing!”

“Really?” he questions with a raised eyebrow. “You did not write my name down prior to burning it?”

Calliope falls silent, because apparently that’s exactly what she did.

“I thought that what I had done to Richard Madoc worked, Calliope. Why did you not come to me sooner to tell me that he had sold you off instead?”

“Nothing of the sort has happened!”

“Then how did you end up bound to yet another mortal?”

“It is not what it looks like, Morpheus.”

“Explain it to me, then,” he pleads.

As the two continue to bicker above you, you feel increasingly like you’re interrupting in your own home. You shift uncomfortably, and Oneiros—Morpheus? Seriously, how many names does this guy have?—turns his sharp gaze upon you.

“You. How did you come to bind the Muse Calliope? What spell have you used to bewitch her?” He demands answers that you don’t have, and your shaking becomes worse under the full brunt of his stare.

“What?” You scramble to your feet so that you can at least pretend to be on the same ground as the two others here. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Please, let us sit down and discuss this civilly,” Calliope interrupts, gesturing both of you towards the living room. 

After a moment of consideration, Oneiros/Morpheus nods tersely and walks in the direction that Calliope had pointed as though this is his home and not yours. You try to get your legs to move, but they steadfastly remain stuck to the spot you’re standing in. Calliope notices this and loops her arm through yours before gently guiding you into the living room.

“Why did he call you a Muse?” you whisper to her.

She presses her lips together in a thin line. “I will give you answers, I promise. It is…complicated.”

Though you’re not exactly satisfied by this answer, you trust Calliope, so you nod and silently agree to wait.

You don’t have to wait for long. Once everybody is seated (you in the chair perpendicular to the couch, with Oneiros/Morpheus on the couch and Calliope sitting next to him while simultaneously acting as a buffer between you), Calliope takes a deep breath and begins to explain everything. About who, and what, she is, how she came to be bound by a writer named Erasmus Fry, and how she was basically bartered for by Ric Madoc. She explains what they wanted from her, and she explains, unflinchingly, what they did to her to get it. Though it’s horrific, you listen to all of it. After all, if she’s willing to give, it’s only fair that you be open to receiving.

Calliope’s words seem to hang in the air long after she’s finished. The three of you sit in silence; Oneiros/Morpheus with a stony expression, you crying (you think you’ve cried more today than you’ve cried in a long, long time), and Calliope waiting calmly for you both to digest what she’s said.

In the end, it’s you who speaks first. “So you’re a goddess?” you ask.

“A Muse, yes,” she says.

“Like, of the Greek variety.” You need to confirm this for some reason, even though you already know the answer.

She laughs. “Yes.”

“A literal Muse is my best friend and roommate?”

You think that you might be going into shock right now

Oneiros/Morpheus scoffs, and you glare at him. “You have something to say?”

“You say that Calliope is your best friend. Then why do you not set her free?”

“Set her free? She’s a person, she’s free to do whatever she wants.”

“No, she is not. Calliope is bound to you, by the old laws.”

“Morpheus,” Calliope says sharply, a warning, but the man continues.

“You are enslaving a goddess and calling it friendship.” The disgust is clear on his face. “How can there be any sort of friendship when she is unable to leave, to do anything, without your say? You have complete and utter control over her, and you force her to pretend that it isn’t so. This farce that you’ve concocted must end now. I implore you to free her before I am left with no choice but to take further action against you.”

The room begins to tilt, and you shake your head in disbelief. “No…”

“They don’t know, Morpheus!” Calliope snaps.

“Cal, you—” 

You feel sick, and you genuinely think that you’re about to throw up. All this time, you thought you had helped to free her from her prison. Instead, she’s remained trapped, bound to you just like she was bound to Madoc and, as you’ve now learned, Erasmus Fry. These men took everything from an unwilling goddess, a Muse, and you’re basically no better than them. 

Swallowing down the bile that rises in your throat does nothing, so you close your eyes to take a couple of deep, shaky breaths in an attempt to calm down. That doesn’t work either, and you rise shakily to your feet before rushing over to the trash can in the kitchen and throwing up the wine and snacks that you had eagerly partaken in at Evie’s.

It’s humiliating, doing something as base and human as retching in the presence of two godly creatures. Everything about this situation is humiliating, if you’re being honest with yourself. You’ve unknowingly extended Calliope’s incarceration and deluded both of you into believing that it was friendship. How could you be a part of such a heinous act? Truly, are you no better than Madoc?

When you’ve finally thrown up everything in your stomach and then some, you’re full-on sobbing as you clutch at the trash can. Your knees give out, but Calliope catches you as you fall to the ground and wraps you in her embrace. She soothes you and murmurs words of comfort as she runs a hand through your hair, letting you cry in her arms when it should be the other way around. You don’t deserve her comfort, you think to yourself.

Once you finally have enough breath in your lungs to be able to talk, you gasp out between hyperventilating, “I’m so sorry. I–I didn’t know, and if I did, I would have never–”

“Shh,” she hushes you, grabbing your hands in hers. “My sweet friend, you have done nothing wrong.”

“But I–”

“I am the one who chose not to tell you. I trusted you in the beginning, and I trust you now. You have not failed me or abused me, or been a captor to me. Do you hear me?” She holds your face in her hands to make you look at her, and she waits until you nod to hug you once more.

“How do I free you?” you ask her. “Please, let me free you.”

“You must say that she is free,” your uninvited guest speaks up, making you remember that there’s a whole other person here. “And mean it.”

“Calliope, you’re free. You’ve always been free,” you say immediately, looking at her earnestly and hoping that she can see in your eyes how sorry you are.

Nothing physically changes. No burst of light envelops her, and she doesn’t undergo any sort of transformation. Yet, something in the air changes and becomes lighter. That inner glow that Calliope’s always carried seems to beam brighter now. Her shoulders look less weighed down now, no longer burdened by her forced captivity.

“Thank you,” Calliope says profusely.

“Don’t do that,” you say, feeling sick all over again. “Don’t thank me for something I should have done the second that Madoc threw you at me. I should have been smarter, more observant than I was. God, you deserve so much more than anything I can ever begin to give you.”

She’s not happy about your self-deprecation, but you will not be the source of her rage tonight. No, as she helps you once more to stand, her anger lands squarely on the man who barged in here and turned everything on its head.

“Apologize. Now,” Calliope demands. “What you have done here tonight is completely unacceptable and a new low, even for you.”

After thinking for a moment, perhaps to consider if he did transgress against you, he nods and stands like some sort of gentleman to properly address you. “The lady Calliope is right. I have acted deplorably towards you this evening, when you have done nothing but offer shelter and companionship to one needing it. I sincerely apologize for the pain and anguish that I have caused you.”

You nod warily, still tucked into Calliope’s side. “Thank you,” you say quietly. 

Truthfully, you do appreciate the apology. If he’s as powerful as you think he is, then he could have just as easily decided that you weren’t worth the breath it would take to form words, and that would be well within his right.

“Well, now that we’re all close to being on the same page here.” Calliope gestures to the man. “Allow me to introduce you to Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams and Ruler of the Nightmare Realms, et cetera, et cetera.”

“You’re a god too?” you ask.

“Not a god. I am Endless, one of seven anthropomorphic personifications of natural forces. I am far older, and far more powerful, than any god, and will remain long after all of your gods are dead and gone,” Morpheus explains.

You try to ignore the fact that one of the most powerful beings in the universe is currently sitting in your living room, lest you start to have an existential crisis in front of him. Now that Calliope’s told you his name, it rings a bell. “Wait, is he your ex?”

Morpheus looks at you both in surprise. “You have spoken of me?”

“Only tonight,” Calliope assures him. “When I…accidentally summoned you.”

The longer that you can think clearly without the threat of bodily harm, the more the puzzle pieces keep clicking into place for you. “He’s Orpheus’s dad, isn’t he?”

Calliope nods, and so does Morpheus, though he’s far more reluctant than she is. You don’t notice that, though, too caught up in your thoughts.

“Ha, Morpheus and Orpheus.” Maybe all of the crying has made you dehydrated, which in turn has left you a little delirious. That’s the only reason why you say this train of thought out loud. “What, if you had a daughter were you going to name her Alliope?” 

Calliope snickers at that, though Morpheus doesn’t share her amusement. “His name fit him perfectly, even though it was quite the coincidence that it was one letter off from that of his father’s.”

“God, I’m so stupid,” you bemoan. “How did I not know you were a goddess? I literally said, ‘Oh cool, like the muse’ when you introduced yourself! You must have thought I was an idiot.”

“It is difficult for the mortal mind to comprehend that which it believes to be fake. To you, that was the only connection that you subconsciously deemed possible,” Morpheus explains. Though he does it to make you feel better, it feels a little patronizing when it comes from someone as powerful as him.

“I wish you would have told me. Did you think that I wouldn’t have freed you? Because I would have!”

“I know that,” Calliope says. “Truthfully, I…forgot to tell you.”

“You forgot?” Morpheus says in disbelief.

At the same time, you ask, “How the fuck do you forget to tell someone that you’re accidentally bound to them?”

“At first, I was scared. That it was a trap, that you would be worse than Madoc. Of course, that lasted about twenty minutes.”

“What made you realize I was different?”

She smiles. “When you told me that the doors only locked from the inside. You cared about my privacy and that I was feeling safe, and I figured that you had no clue about anything that had happened, or about who I was. From there, it just wasn’t something that I thought to bring up. I was too frightened to leave the apartment, and I had been cut off from the world for over sixty years. Frankly, the idea of going out without you terrified me. As I began to regain control of my life and heal, it just became something that I thought about less and less. You are my best and dearest friend, and we do everything together, so why would I think about a bond other than the one that formed naturally?”

It’s very sweet of her to say, but you still have questions. “So you were just going to continue to live like this?”

“I did not have a plan, but I suppose so. I was happy here, with you.”

“Okay, but what happened if I got married one day, or like, had kids?”

“I would just be the fun aunt that lived with you and your family?”

“Jesus Christ,” you groan before sitting up suddenly. “Wait, is Jesus Christ real too?” 

Calliope and Morpheus share a look, and you’re suddenly frightened of the answer.

“No wait, don’t tell me, I don’t wanna know.”

You really, really don’t want to have an existential crisis until you can be alone in the comfort of your room.

Thankfully, Calliope and Morpheus take over the conversation from there, because you don’t think you have the mental capacity to try and further any conversation right now. They obviously have a lot to catch up on, since it seems like the last time they saw each other was when Calliope broke down and asked him for help escaping Madoc.

Instead, while they converse, you take a moment to zone out and try to process just what has happened in the past hour. The stranger that broke into your apartment turned out to be the powerful, eldritch nightmare king ex-husband to your roommate, who’s actually a goddess that was unintentionally bound to you. For reasons beyond your comprehension, he thought that she needed rescuing, and that you were the one that she needed rescuing from.

Your thoughts chase each other like a cyclone, and you try not to panic as you think about all of this. God, you need a drink right now.

When Morpheus and Calliope both rise, with Morpheus saying that he really must return to his kingdom, you rise with them. After all, how will you ever feel at ease if you don’t ask him what’s on your mind?

“Are we good now?” you ask. “Like, you’re not gonna hurt me or curse me? I promise I had no idea about any of this.”

“Yes, I know that now,” Morpheus says. “I will not harm you. If anything, I should be offering you a boon, for being such an immense help to one such as Calliope.”

“You owe me nothing. Neither of you do.”

Calliope leans in and kisses Morpheus on the cheek, so gently that you wonder if she even made contact. “Fare you well, Morpheus.”

He bows his head. “Goodbye.”

Between one blink and the next, he’s gone as though he was never here at all.

•••

That night, you dream, and for the first time, you’re aware of the fact that you’re dreaming.

You don’t know where you are, but it’s the greenest, lushest meadow you’ve ever seen. Wildflowers dance lazily in the breeze, and you can hear the low rush of a river behind the treeline. You’re tempted to lie down in the impossibly soft-looking grass and watch the clouds drift overhead, but before you can, you see them standing next to you.

Morpheus looks just as he did when you saw him in your apartment, only a lot less like he’s ready to murder you. The main difference is that he now sports robes fit for a king instead of his coat. His eyes, you also notice, are black pools of stars.

On the other hand, the Calliope you see before you is a complete departure from the Calliope you know and love. She’s wearing a white chiton that’s belted at the waist and her hair, which normally falls in curly waves, is braided back intricately. She shines, in a way that you’ve never seen, looking every bit the goddess that she is.

“Is this real, or am I dreaming?” you ask.

“Dreams are real,” Morpheus says with the slightest of smiles.

“Of course, my bad.”

Though it’s a picturesque dream, it’s stained with strokes of melancholy. On some level, you know what’s going to happen, and what Morpheus has brought you here for.

“You’re gonna leave, aren’t you?” you ask Calliope.

Selfishly, you’re hoping that she’ll say no. That she’ll tell you that your home is her home and where she’s meant to be. Yet even as you foolishly hope, you know that your ordinary apartment, your ordinary life, is no place for a goddess. No, she deserves far greater than that.

She smiles sadly, and that’s all the confirmation you need. “I think I must, at least temporarily. There is…much for me to do, back home on Olympus. I wish to reconnect with my sisters, for one. And though it is lofty of me, I wish to change the old laws so that we may never be enslaved on the whims of mortals ever again.”

“If anyone can change laws that are thousands of years old, it’s you.”

“Thank you…for everything these past two months. Truly, I do not know how I can ever properly thank you for what you have done for me.”

“You don’t have to do anything; just knowing that you’re safe and happy is enough for me. I’m so proud of you for taking your life back after everything you went through. You deserve all of the happiness and goodness that the world has to offer you.”

“I would not have been able to do it without you, you know. No matter how we came to know each other, I am glad that we did. You saved me.” She says it so earnestly, needing you to truly understand your impact on her recovery.

“You did that yourself, Cal. I was just along for the ride.”

“You have my utmost respect,” Morpheus says. “Not many would have taken in a stranger needing help from off the streets with nothing but the purest of intentions, and fewer still would have offered them friendship. Your bravery and kind heart shall not be forgotten.”

“You have my respect too, for what it’s worth.”

He looks at you in surprise. “Why?”

“Calliope told me that you didn’t end things on the best of terms. But still, when she called for help, you answered with barely a second thought, and did all you could to help.”

He stares for a moment before nodding and turning to gaze out across the meadow. To your unabashed delight, his cheeks tint a light lavender in embarrassment, unsure of how to take your compliment. You bite your lip to stifle your laugh and decide to not tease the King of Dreams…for now.

Though you’ve been putting it off, some sixth sense tells you that your time here is nearing an end. You turn to Calliope again, who already is trying desperately to keep her tears unshed. When you meet her eyes, she holds out her arms to hug you, and you gladly accept.

“I’ll miss you,” you mumble.

Calliope kisses your forehead before pressing hers to yours affectionately. “I shall miss you as well, more than you can even imagine.”

“Call me if you need anything, okay? If–if your sisters are ganging up on you, or if you need someone to watch the best movies of the two-thousands with you, or if you’re missing going to karaoke with the gang. I’ll drop everything and go to Greece, just say the word.”

She laughs, the sound uninhibited and joyful. “I know you will.”

“Goodbye, Calliope." You have no choice but to finally, reluctantly say the words you've been dreading to say. If you weren't to do it now, you know you'd never let go of her.

Calliope pulls away just enough so that she can look you in the eye. “May fortune go with you, my sweetest friend.”

•••

Calliope’s gone when you wake up, her belongings the only sign that she even existed here in the first place. Though you cry, they’re not tears of sadness; rather, they’re happy tears, because how could you not be happy for Calliope? She’s found her freedom and the strength to return home, to try and make a better world for herself and her fellow gods and goddesses. Truly, this is all that you ever wanted for her.

On her nightstand sits a folded-up note, your name written on the front in Calliope’s ornate script. You open it up to read it, and when you finish, you hold it to your heart.

I will always be close by in your heart, as you will always be in mine. No distance can change that. Should you need me, you need only pray to me, and I shall hear you. Continue to make the world as bright as you.

-Calliope

[roguelov]

Consequences

Summary: For nearly half of a year, you had been in a romantic relationship with both Morpheus, King of Dreams and Nightmares, and Calliope, a Greek Muse. However, soon, a seed of doubt, insecurity, and jealousy blooms as the two past lovers grow closer and begin to neglect you. So, what will happen when you finally snap?

Word Count: ~3.5k

Reader: Afab!reader

Warning: Smut (edging, dirty talk, oral!receiving, fingering, light choking, possessiveness, minor praise kink), angst (jealousy and mentions of leaving) sprinkled in the beginning, fluff at the end

Note: It can be a part 2 for this, or just a standalone

I’m fine.

I’m fine.

I love them each dearly. Nothing will ever change that.

Nothing.

But.

But, do they truly love you the same in return? Do they truly cherish you like you cherish them? Do they spend more time together when you are away? Don’t they share more secrets, share more memories? Do they love each other more -

This new sinister voice drilled question after question into your mind and waning sanity. It filled every crevice, void of love, with doubt and despair. Piece by piece, it sewed its control over you. It whispered its relentless questions, it showed you flashes of scenes and interactions in a new twisted light, it reminded you of the cruel truth.

The truth being: Calliope and Morpheus had a past. A complicated past, yes, but one that was built on a shared love. And although it may have ended messily, they wished to overcome and start again, start new.

With you.

Or you simply forgot that last crucial part.

The first couple of months were picture perfect. It was a new beginning with the two of them and you truly never felt happier, or more alive. With nights spent as a whole trio or with only one, and dates and outings do whatever the day brought. They showered you in affection, they whispered about their combined love, and with time they slowly revealed their shared past and all its secrets, good and bad.

You were thankful that they felt comfortable to do so. Honored, in a way. Yet, the comfort did not last long. Tiny, minuscule, storm clouds began to form over your head. And bit by bit, almost resentful of them, you pulled away. For some reason, they did not reach out farther. They did not pull you back from the edge, they did not see the pain behind your smile, they did not question as you grew more silent and reserved.

They did nothing.

You tried helplessly to push past it, tried to act as if this envious worm, rotten, bitter, and jealous, hasn’t made a residency in your heart.

But, it did.

In passing moments, whether it be in the Waking or the Dreaming, you only saw how they looked to each other. Like gravity they were drawn together, unable to stop it.

You laid awake in the dark, awfully quiet bedroom. Only with your spiraling thoughts to keep you company. It all played on repeat: every scene together, every moment from the beginning of the relationship to its entirety of the past months.

Do you think they are together right now? Do you think Calliope visits the Dreaming when you are away? What would they be doing? What would they be doing without you? Would they -

You flung your pillow at the wall. It didn’t sway or lessen any pain. You wanted objects to shatter, to shatter like how your heart began to crack. You gritted your teeth ready to rip out your hair. It was maddening.

They each have their own lives as do I. You told yourself. I’m busy, they’re busy. And - and -

You screamed.

Why couldn’t these feelings go away?

The storm clouds brewed and festered. A storm - no, a ravenous hurricane would make land soon. You simply hoped you were prepared for the inevitability consequences.

After a few weeks apart, all three of you were united once again. You should be happy, thrilled even, you should be smiling and laughing. Yet, all you could do was grit your teeth, about to crack them, and glower at Calliope and Morpheus.

In your apartment, in your living room, Calliope laid in Morpheus’s arms. Her back pressed into his chest with his arms carefully wrapped around her waist. All the while, you sat on a lone chair. Across the room, far, far away from them.

The tv played random movies all of which were distant static in your ringing ears. Your eyes focused solely on the two of them. You wanted to smile at their smiles, you wanted to laugh at their hushed whispers. You wanted, and wanted, and wanted -

“Does anyone need a drink ro anything?” You asked, nearly biting a hole on the inside of your cheek.

The pair shook their heads, saying their thanks, and stayed clasped in each other’s embrace.

You muttered ‘okay’ and hopped up desperately needing the space.

In your kitchen, you tugged on your hair begging why you felt this way. Why now? Why these constant horrid emotions and thoughts? Why did you clench your jaw at the sight of your two loves? Why did you dig your fingernails into your palm when they giggled together? Why did you want to scream when they shared a smile? Why, why, why -

Laughter, contagious and boisterous, echoed.

Your heart clenched.

Don’t. You’ll only make it worse for yourself. Don’t -

You peered out of the kitchen. Calliope, pressed into Morpheus’s chest, was laughing wholeheartedly throwing herself into him, while Morpheus chuckled lightly; he was more amused by Calliope’s outburst. Sounds, sweet hypnotic sounds, which should have brought a flutter in your heart only grated on your ears. Your face twisted as all the anger you had locked away started to break down the door.

Morpheus dropped his head down, whispering into Calliope’s ear. She laughed more, unable to stifle her giggles.

Red covered your vision.

How dare they.

It was as if you didn’t exist. They were more enraptured with each other than anything else. Almost as if you were nothing, nothing but a mere mortal - a pathetic ant to play with for these two worldly gods.

They clearly didn’t need you. Or want you.

Clearly, they didn’t care.

Jealousy was a wicked vile monster. Anger was her fiery insatiable friend. Together, the two had wound you up for weeks, spewing their truths, and now you could not push them back anymore.

“Am I interrupting?”

Calliope and Morpheus, smiling and cheerful, glanced over to you. You, however, did not share their same smile. Never did.

Calliope blinked, taken back by your seething glare. Sitting up, she turned, looking at you. “What’s the matter, my -“

“Don’t. Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Your lips twisted into a snarl. How dare she think she can sweeten me over?

Morpheus’s eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion. What has stirred such a hateful reaction? He looked to Calliope only to find the same confusion.

“I don’t understand,” Morpheus stated. “What has caused such -“

“How can two gods - or a goddess and some cosmic being, be so dense? Are you not all seeing and all knowing? Or is that only for each other?”

A sliver of the truth hidden behind all your rage.

Calliope could not find the words. Her mouth gaped like a fish on land, shocked by this side of you.

Morpheus, however, responded more coolily, sternly. He slowly rose to his feet, tilting his head back. Summoning all of his regal prestige and power. “Will you tell us what afflicts you, or will you continue to throw a tantrum like a common child?”

“A child?” You gasped; your nails cut into your palm.

“Yes, a child.”

“Morpheus,” Calliope warned. “Let’s not do -“

“Says the being who has told stories of throwing tantrums throughout his entire existence.” You fired back.

Calliope instantly shot up, placing a hand on Morpheus’s chest. She looked at you, frowning. “You must stop this at once. I do not know where this has come from but it ends now.”

You heard none of it. Your eyes locked on her hand on his chest.

She chose him.

They chose each other.

“Well, clearly, you don’t need me,” you shouted, throwing your hands up in the air. “I should probably go find someone else then!“

They tensed.

You continued on, fueled by your rage. “Find someone else to care for me and hold me and pleasure me in ways you two have not. Neither of you have even touched me in weeks.” Another truth. But, it was not necessarily their fault, because life had a habit of getting in the way. You simply wanted to hurt them. “Don’t worry, you guys stay here and enjoy yourself, I’ll go out and find someone else.”

The air shifted.

Your anger had spread. It infected.

You glared, wanting some reaction. However, they stood transfixed in place with blank stares. Huffing, you spun on your heel.

So, be it.

Instantly, you smacked into something and stumbled back. Your head snapped up to see Morpheus. His haunting blue eyes bore into you - through you into the deepest parts of you. Your lips thinned as you held his gaze.

He stepped forth.

Instinctively, you stepped back.

Into Calliope.

Her arms wrapped around your waist, trapping you. You tried to squirm free, but Morpheus cleared his throat. You froze. He reached out, with his forefinger and thumb, grabbing your chin and tilted your head back. “Oh no, sweet one,” he whispered, dangerously. “You will not be going anywhere.”

“Really?” You asked, defiantly.

Calliope chuckled in your ear, amused by your act. “Oh, yes.”

You scoffed.

Morpheus’s hands wrapped around your neck, dragging you closer. His lips brushed over yours. He enunciated each word, every syllable, sharply. “You. Are. Staying.”

Fear trickled down your spine, like a wet cloth it doused your fire. Or most of it.

Without warning, Calliope dragged you off. You stumbled, and still contemplated whether to fight back. Yet, as you peered over your shoulder, Morpheus glared unwaveringly at you. You swallowed and became a little more compliant.

In your bedroom, slightly disoriented and muddled with diminishing hateful emotions, Calliope pulled you into a searing kiss. Your knees nearly buckled. You instantly clung to her as she worked her spell over you. Her nimbly fingers grazed over your body, bringing goosebumps in their wake. She quickly discards all of your clothes in a fury, all the while she stayed fully clothed.

Your hands reached out to touch her, to remove her confining layers of clothing when her hands caught your wrists. You blinked, stunned. She simply smirked.

Arms, from behind, wrapped around your waist. Morphues dragged you backwards and down into the bed. With a soft ‘oof’, your back fell into his chest, while he rested on the headboard. Oddly, his clothes also remained on. His plain shirt, usually soft, itched and rubbed against your bare back. His firm arms tightened around your waist, locking you place. He dropped his head, and his lips ghosted over your shoulder. He barely touched you, and yet you complied, giving yourself over completely.

The fire from before, the anger and jealousy vanished, died out, as you were at their mercy, and you didn’t mind.

At least for now.

Calliope, however, remained at the end of the bed. Her soft hands danced over your legs. You peered down at her, nervous and giddy. She smiled sweetly, yet her eyes twinkled with sinister intentions. Her hands spread your legs apart. Her smile widened. You were dripping. Barely minutes in and you were already like this.

“My love,” she purred.

You shivered.

Dropping to her knees, she planted feather-like kisses on the inside of your thighs. You sighed dreamily, closing your eyes. Quickly, like a switch, her delicate kisses shifted, more sinful, more demanding. She nipped and bit, marking every inch - bruising you. You gasped, your legs jerked, but Calliope’s hands kept you firmly pressed into the bed.

“Calliope,” you moaned.

You didn't say it, but she knew what you wanted. And she allowed it.

Just for this moment.

Her mouth latched onto your dripping folds, lapping up everything.

You arched your back, but Morpheus’s arms kept you in place. You squirmed in his unshakable grasp.

He chuckled against your skin. “So needy.”

You whimpered.

His hands snaked up and cupped your breast. Your head fell back onto his shoulder. He kneaded and played with you, raising you higher and higher along with Calliope’s memorizing tongue.

Calliope hummed. Her nails dug into your thighs, marking half crescents into your already bruised skin. Your breath caught in your throat. Morpheus twisted your perked nipples. You mewled, squeezing your eyes in pleasure.

“How long has it been since we’ve been together?” Morpheus whispered in your ear. “How long since you’ve been touched?”

Your breath hitched.

He nipped at your neck. “Days? Weeks, as you supposedly claim?”

You couldn’t answer. And you weren’t sure if you should.

His hands traced up the valley of your breast and curled around your neck. He squeezed gently, just as Calliope hummed again.

It sent shockwaves through you.

Your mind was in a state of frenzy. Every nerve was on fire. Weeks. It had been weeks, and you were sensitive and desperate for them. Your walls tightened around Calliope’s tongue, a sure sign of your close end. You sighed, utterly at bliss and -

She instantly pulled away.

Your eyes shot open. “Calliope -“

Morpheus squeezed your neck and you groaned immediately shutting your mouth. He dropped his hand from your neck and wrapped his arms back around your waist. “No, not yet.”

“What? No, please,” you pleaded, bucking your hips.

“And why should we?” Calliope asked, crawling up to you. “We do not satisfy you as you say.”

“Well, I - uh -“

“So, why should you get the pleasure to come?” Morpheus cut you off. “We obviously have no clue as to what to do.” One of his hands crept down, tracing your body and cupped your sex. “We obviously do not know you or your body,” he murmured, and nibbled on your ear.

You whined.

Calliope touched your cheek, turning your head and attention on her. She gently stroked your cheek. As if to ease your worries, your pains. All of it was a sweet lie. She leaned in, her lips skimmed over your lips taunting you. You chased after them desperate. She smirked, unwilling to give you the satisfaction.

“We obviously do not know you, like how we do not know of this spot,” she dipped her head into the crook of your neck. Her breath fanned against your buzzing skin, making you shiver. “And how easily you become aroused by such a simple touch.”

“Or,” Morpheus’s thumb swiped across your swollen clit and you bit your lip, moaning, “how vocal you quickly become.”

Calliope cupped your breast and slowly rolled your nipple between her fingers. You arched your back. “Or how you love to be played with.”

Morpheus’s fingers slid into your folds, and slowly began to pump in and out. You hissed, whispering a string of curses under your breath. You grind your hips down, needing more. Morpheus chuckled darkly. “Or how your body always betrays you, and shows how truly desperate you are.”

Morpheus curled his fingers, beckoning you closer and closer, leading you to your edge. You moaned their names loudly and unabashedly.

They were right.

They knew you and your body well.

Morpheus smirked. He picked up his pace, absolutely relentless. The sound of your dripping sex and Morpheus’s skillful fingers rang in your ears. You whimpered. The feeling as before build and build. You clenched your thighs and nearly trapped Morpheus’s fingers.

But, he knew you, he knew your tells.

“Oh no,” he laughed once. He deliberately removed his fingers, soaked in your juices, and brought them up into the light as if to admire them. You whimpered, praying for relief. “Not yet, sweetness.”

“Morpheus -“

“Silence.”

Your mouth clamped shut, and your sex throbbed. His demanding aura was frightening, chilling, and it turned you on immensely.

Calliope chuckled, not oblivious of Morpheus’s effect on you. “Oh, my love, you will remember who you belong to.”

Your heart flipped, both excited and terrified.

“We will have you begging and pleading and even then we may not offer you relief,” Calliope explained. “But maybe if you only show us how good you are.”

“Correct, so we will have our fun,” Morpheus said lowly. “Do you understand?”

You nodded numbly.

“Good.” They both said as wicked smirks crossed their features.

Oh, yes, you were in trouble.

It was sweet punishment. The consequences to your actions.

Minutes bleed together.

Hours passed. Or so it seemed.

Each one of them had their turn with you - toying with you. They switched on and off, using their mouth and wicked tongue to their mind numbing fingers, and sometimes both. Each of them drew you so close to the edge. You could feel the ledge and was ready to fall into bliss, only to have them instantly pull away.

You whined and begged, repeating their names over and over like broken prayers. Yet, they only smirked and continued the torment all over again.

Calliope, now laying beside you, brushed the hairs sticking to your sweat covered forehead. “You are being so good for us.”

You whimpered, leaning into her soothing touch. “Please, I - I’m sorry for what I said.”

You have apologized a dozen times, but it did not sway them.

“We know,” she said softly. She looked down to Morpheus between your legs, who was watching the two of you. “What do you say, Oneiros? Do we continue or -?”

Morpheus’s eyes flickered over to you. With droopy, hazy eyes, you slowly peered down at him. Your eyes begged for relief and forgiveness. Your breathed heavily through your swollen parted lips. Your chest, speckled with sweat, rose and fell rapidly.

It was obvious, you were spent.

He ran a single finger through your folds.

You arched your back, mumbling incoherent nonsense.

He glanced at Calliope. “I believe we’ve had enough fun, don’t you say?”

Calliope smiled. “Oh yes.”

Morpheus’s fingers, again, easily slid in. You instantly grinded down on them. His mouth took your clit and gently sucked on it as his fingers feverishly pumped into you.

He was merciless.

You cried out.

And given how long it has been going on, you were very close. Your walls fluttered down around his fingers pleading for release. He hummed, loudly.

You whined, arching your back. “Morpheus.”

“Oh, come, my sweet love,” Calliope cooed. “You have been so patient with us.”

Morphues swirled his tongue and curled his fingers.

And that alone was enough.

You clamped down in his fingers, seeing stars as you moaned out their names. Morpheus eagerly removed his fingers and lapped up your juices. You squirmed and cried out in utter bliss.

Morpheus pulled away, chin soaked, to see you breathless and face buried into the bed. Calliope smiled gently down at you stroking your hair, grounding you back to Earth. Morpheus swiftly walked off grabbing a wet cloth and returned to clean you up while Calliope whispered sweet nothings in your ear. Quickly, the both of them crawled into bed pulling the sheets up over all three of you. Facing Calliope, you hugged her, drawing her closer, feeling her warmth. She peppered your face in butterfly kisses, while Morpheus, from behind kissed your shoulder.

“You were so good for us,” Calliope whispered.

Yet, as they showered you with their love. An ache built in your heart. The events from early resurfaced and the dull reminder of hateful emotions. You sniffled, as tears brimmed in your eyes.

“Oh, my love,” Calliope cupped your face, whipping away the tears. “Were we too -“

“It’s not you,” you blubbered out.

Morpheus wrapped his arms around your waist, comforting you. “Talk to us, love.”

“I am so sorry,” you mumbled as your throat clenched. You said it multiple times throughout the night, but you needed them to know how immensely sorry and guilty you were. “I said such awful things and I let my emotions get the better of me and -“

“Shhhhh,” Calliope cooed. “All is forgiven, you needn’t worry.”

“But - but I -“

“We are all captive to our emotions, and we simply need to learn from our mistakes and move forward.”

Morpheus kissed the back of your neck. “You know of my past, you know I have let pride and anger consume me. But now I am actively trying to do better, as well all are. We may stumble but it is those around us who pick us up and encourage us to try again who truly help.”

You nodded. Your heart now alleviated from the sorrowful pains and aches.

“And you are not solely to blame,” Calliope whispered, stroking your cheek. “You were also right, we have neglected you. Our attention was pulled elsewhere, but we will try better.”

You shook your head. “You shouldn’t apologize. You have duties pertaining to the whole world, and I shouldn’t put you at blame for that.”

“And yet, we also have a duty to you,” Morpheus hummed.

“He is right,” Calliope stated. “We agreed to this, and we failed you. But, it is not a mistake we will make twice.”

“Agreed.”

You smiled softly. “Okay, let’s promise here for a new start and to do better in the future.”

“I promise.” Calliope kissed your forehead.

“As do I,” Morpheus kissed between your shoulder blades.

You leaned forward kissing Calliope’s cheek, and she blushed under the gesture. You grabbed Morpheus’s hand and brought it up to your lips kissing his knuckles. He smiled softly against your back. “I promise too,” you whispered.

[littledollll]

no i DONT care about their partner/crush/soulmate in canon because it’s actually ME. Stop shipping them and start shipping US.

(The only exception to this rule is Lucifer and mazikeen bc I want them both.) (maybe Morpheus and calliope)

[dearly-dreaming]

•𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒•

Title: Punishments And Rewards.

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x fem!reader.

Word count: 1665.

Warnings: Smut(18+ only - minors don’t interact) unprotected sex (remember to be safe!) hair pulling, edging, orgasm denial, jealousy, angst if you squint, and a little bit of fluff.

Summary: It was hardly you fault, that far just started talking to you but it seems as though Morpheus has to remind you who you belong to.

Author’s note: Thanks to the anon who requested this! If you’re reading this I hope you enjoy :)

•𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒•

18+ only. Minors do not interact.

"Please, Morpheus!"

Your body shook, the delirium of desire consuming you.

You had no clue how many times you'd been stopped from cumming tonight.

Enough that your mouth fell open, moans falling free, rambled and desperate. Your only thoughts on the man that towered above you, hips thrusting into your so slowly, so deeply. You trembled under his dominance, wanting nothing more than to cum around him again and again.

But he would not let you.

His dark chuckle sounded above you, "Please?"

"Yes!" You cried, "Please let me cum!"

There was a moment's pause and you thought he would finally stop his punishment, satisfied by your frantic begging.

Then, like a whispered secret, his lips brushed against your ear, "No."

And he fucked into you.

Roughly.

"Take your punishment," He snarled, "Take your punishment."

A strangled whine escaped your mouth as Morpheus pounded into you, the harshness of his thrusts igniting across your body, the bruising grip he had on your hips delicious. Like lightning, he snapped into you, cock hitting you so deeply you couldn't think.

This was the wrath of Dream of the Endless.

And you could do nothing but take it.

"Who do you belong to?" He ground into you relentlessly.

"You!" You squealed without hesitation, intoxicated by all that was Morpheus, your husband.

Feeble hands gripped at silken sheets of your shared bed as your body shook with each powerful, dominating thrust. You could feel his anger shoot through you as he fucked you, low grunts falling from his lips.

Oh, how you would pray for the sounds he made.

You pushed your head into the pillow, tears of pleasure blurring your sight. Your muffled screams filled the room, almost drowning out the slapping of skin that made your core burn. Your knees seared with the heat of Morpheus' power as he fucked you with the rage of mountains and storms.

You clutched at the sheets as hard as you could, shoving your face so deep into your pillow it was hard to breathe, moans falling rapidly from your mouth like a messy symphony.

Morpheus scoffed.

His hand fisted your hair and he yanked your head up.

"Do not hide your voice now, my love," He hissed, voice like liquid darkness, "You were so happy to use it earlier."

Morpheus ground into you groans falling from his lips as he snapped toward your neck, brutal bites and red marks littering your skin like art. He marked you relentlessly, dominated over you entirely, owned you wholly.

"Oh, god!" You whined.

"I am no god," He grinned against your skin.

"Fuck! Please, Morpheus!" You cried as he pounded into you ferally, teeth digging into your skin, "Please!"

Dream laughed in mocking amusement, body pressed flush against yours as he murmured, "I enjoy it when you beg."

"Fuck me..." You gasped breathlessly.

"I am," He muttered, dark hair falling on your shoulder like wisps of darkness, "Beg me for more."

Yes sir.

The words flowed from you like a poem, a prayer, a ramble of desperation and love, "Morpheus! I'm sorry! So sorry! I beg of you, my love! Please let me cum. Let me cum for you. Only you."

You felt his lips curve into a wolfish smirk as he lifted his head from your neck, speed slowing to an agonizing pace, each thrust deep, purposeful - a claim. No one else could ever make you feel the way he did, get this deep inside of you. Only him.

"Only me?" He spoke slyly, "Not that pathetic fae man you seemed so fond of tonight?"

"Yes! Only you! Only you! No one else, never anyone else!" You wailed, desperate to cum.

"Did you enjoy listening to him whisper in your ear? How his lustful eyes watched you? How his hands itched to touch you?" Morpheus hissed.

"No!" You cried feebly.

"No one else can make you feel this way? No one can make you this desperate? No one can make you this pleasured? No one? No one else?" Dream spoke, voice strained as his skin slapped against yours so brutally.

"No," You whimpered weakly, "Only you!"

"Good," He grunted.

And suddenly he was hammering into you. The thrusts grew louder more sinful, as you moaned wantonly, body rocking against his as he fucked you with an iron grip, his dick hitting places only he knew. he pounded against you so fiercely you could feel your high approaching you once more. You desperately chased it, whines and moans falling from you like prayer.

So close.

So fucking close.

Abruptly, Morpheus stopped.

You wailed in upset. He had not yet finished his punishment. he was going to stop you from cumming again. Instinct pushed you to try and rock back on him but his grip was like a cage, forcing you still.

Only your heaving breaths could be heard.

Morpheus shifted, chest pressing flush against your back. Your legs shook, struggling to keep you upright. His grip on your hair fell and came to lay on the sheets beside yours. You almost reached out.

Your chest heaved as tears of pleasure fell from your eyes, searing your cheeks, staining the silk of your sheets. You couldn't care less. You just wanted to cum.

"Am' sorry," You whispered, speech slurring, "So sorry, love."

"I know," He murmured to you, gently, "I know you are."

"Please..." You whimpered.

"If you answer my question, I'll let you cum," Morpheus spoke softly, "Hm?"

You somehow found the strength to nod, "Yes."

Dream sighed, "Why did you do it, my love? Why seek attention from another?"

You turned away, shame burrowing deep inside of you.

But Morpheus would not let you, his starlight-kissed skin hand gripping your chin, forcing you to look into his glittering eyes, "Why?"

The words tumbled from your mouth, "Because you didn't do anything."

His brows furrowed like a raven's feather, "Because I didn't do anything?"

You nodded, feeling an upset glare make its way onto your face, "All those fae bitches were flirting with you and you just sat there."

Realisation shimmered in Morpheus' eyes as his grip on your hop and chin loosened. You lowered your gaze, guilt and shame ripping through you. He was your husband, it was such a foolish thing to be jealous of.

"My love," Whispered Dream, hand placing itself on yours, "It is I who should apologize, I did not realise."

"Morpheus-" You scrambled to tell him that it wasn't his fault, that you had been acting childish and never should have allowed petty jealousy to get the better of you the way it did.

He gently shushed you, "Hush now, my love," He murmured, "As promised, it is time to take your reward."

Before you had time to understand what he spoke of, Dream had already moved the two of you. Now, you straddled his lap, sinking deeply onto his cock. You whined. Morpheus grasped your hips softly, hands stroking the reddened skin tenderly.

"Go on, my love, take what you deserve," He spoke to you─ silver ring glimmering brightly around his bare neck, made from fragments of stars, it shimmered in unison with yours.

Your wedding rings.

You lifted your hips, falling back down on his dick, shivering in delight.

With a shaking body, you somehow found your pace, quickening as you chased the high you had been denied so much before. It called to you, desperate to shoot across your body like sunrise.

Your hands clasped Morpheus' shoulders, tangled in his midnight hair as you rode him fervently. He groaned softly, kissing your perfect lips gently as his hands ran up and down your body, reciting it to his memory.

God, how he had missed your body. How he had missed you. He would never be away from you again.

You whined, "I'm close," Your hips stuttered, "Cum with me. Please cum with me."

"Always," Hummed Morpheus, peppering kisses to your neck, the sweet taste of sweat on his tongue, as he bucked into you, matching your pace perfectly.

You moaned erratically, rolling your hips frantically. Your release was so close you could almost taste it. Your nails dug into Dream's skin as he fucked you, cock hitting that sensitive spot within you over and over again.

So close.

So very close.

So impossibly close.

You threw your head back.

You stilled your body.

You orgasmed.

Morpheus groaned, voice gravelly as he nestled deep within you, cum coating your walls as he shuddered. Your body shook like electricity, and your mind shattered from the sheer force of your orgasm. It shot across you like a lightning storm. You loved it.

Dream kissed your skin again and again as you slowly fell from your high.

Finally, he spoke, "Y/n..." He murmured gently, eyes softening so much it almost hurt, "My y/n..."

You saw Morpheus' eyes become sorrowful, breath escaping his mouth as his fingers came to pull your lip from your teeth, hands cupping you so gently it was as if he feared you would shatter in his embrace.

His voice was so soft it almost broke, it was the very same voice he had after a century's imprisonment, "No, my love. Do not harm yourself to try and hide the feelings I caused."

You shook your head, suddenly overwhelmed, "No, I was overreacting-"

"You were not," His hold became ever so slightly firmer, demanding you listen to his words, "Your emotions are never an overreaction. Never. I can only apologize relentlessly for the feelings I caused you with my carelessness."

You tried to pull away, tell him it wasn't his fault, all anger was gone from you but he would not let you, "Morpheus..."

"My love. I am your husband, your partner, your lover, I should have known instantly you were upset and felt neglected but I did not. And you had to seek comfort from another, I have failed you," Morpheus whispered tenderly, voice holding secrets long forgotten to the universe.

"No, I have failed you," You croaked softly.

Dream shook his head, hands slipping from your cheeks and falling to your hips as he lowered himself to the ground, kneeling before you on his knees. You gasped. His eyes glittered with boundless devotion, shimmered with more love than any being in the universe could muster, and shined with a passion only found in dreams.

"Forgive me," Morpheus whispered.

A breath escaped you, hands coming to cup his cheeks, blessed by his starry skin, "Only if you forgive me."

"Always," He gasped.

And you sealed the promise with a kiss.

Tags: @fate-huntress @layla2-49 @asianfrustration13 @true-queen-of-mischief @mxtokko @notabotiswear @marion7s-blog @winxchester @beautifulbows924 @sidneysdreamland @boofy1998 @thecrazytealady @kisses4kitty @we-love-our-bandz @kittycatcait219 @crimsonabbath @violet-19999 @dreaming-about-fanfictions @silverhart93 @dilf-of-the-endless @tea-effect @bakerstreethound @popcornceilings69 @blu3what @angelphishy

[fastlikealambo]

         A Court Of Blood And Dreams: Vampire! Morpheus x Black Fem Reader AU

sneak peek # 1.

                              Sneak Peek # 2

Summary: Vampires have been out of the coffin for the last hundred years or so and after a long war, humans and immortals live in somewhat peace. The easiest way to make money is to donate blood for the rich vampires who want the real thing and after losing your job, you’re out of options.  

You also neglected to read the fine print.

What you thought was a red cross watch tv while giving away a few pints of blood situation has turned into an invitation to be the human blood bag for one of the most powerful vampires in the world.

An invitation you accepted when you signed on the dotted line.

Little do you know, you’re about to marry the most powerful vampire king in the world.

Note: I need more time but I didn’t want to leave yall hanging so I hope you like another glimpse into this world :)  This draws on the movie The Invitation for inspiration but you don’t have to have seen the movie to understand as this is highly AU and the lore comes from everywhere.

Though this fic is focused on  morpheus x reader, the endgame is probably gonna be morpheus x reader x calliope. 

Don’t forget to reblog, reply, or like this so I know if you like it!

Trigger Warnings: Murder, vampirism, roderick burgess being a sexist crotch pheasant

2011. 

“The King!”

The whispers of the growing crowd fell silent as Morpheus, Vampire King of The Court of Dreaming, walked slowly to the front. He had no reason to run to the scene, the amount of blood he smelled already informed him of his human bride’s demise. There was nothing that could be done and he would not waver in front of his court.

He could not waver.

His walk ended with nearly tripping over Calliope, who held their bride in her arms. She rocked  her back and forth, nearly oblivious to Morpheus’ presence until he knelt down beside his loves, both undead and dead.

“I  found her like this, I tried to turn her but she was already dead. Someone did this Oneiros, someone in this room murdered her!” Calliope screamed into the crowd.

“As tragic as it is, my king, the girl probably did this to herself. Perhaps it might be best if you removed your hysterical wife from the room.” Roderick Burgess, another member of court, spoke up.

“You are a snake Roderick Burgess.” Calliope spat back, baring her fangs. 

“Enough. If anyone in this court knows anything about what has occurred here tonight, you will speak now.” Morpheus said.

The room remained silent.

“Someone answer me!”  Morpheus yelled. 

And yet, nothing.

Despite Calliope’s pleas, Morpheus gently took his human bride from her and carried her from the room. By moonlight, he washed her body,  slipped the wedding ring from her finger and into his pocket.

They buried her in her wedding gown.

As the vampire king threw a blood red rose into her grave, he came to a decision.

He would never take a human bride again. 

TEN YEARS LATER.

“ Today marks the 37th anniversary of the end of The Blood War, The War That Drained The World, a time marred by death and destruction for humans and vampires alike but now we celebrate thirty seven years of peace. Don’t forget to pick up your Memorial Meal at Mcdonalds! Free for the first 50 veterans!”

The commercial fades out into the background as you fidget in your seat, picking at the threads of your sweater, trying to do the math to figure out how you could split your donor money into rent, car payment, groceries, possibly a new sweater to replace this one.

“ You can come back now sweetheart.”  The nurse said, her smile failing to hide the fangs peeking through her lips. You follow her, ignoring the texts coming through your phone from your landlord whom you promised you’d pay in an hour.

This was your life since your mom died. 

Dodging calls from your landlord, 

Defaulting on your student loan payments,

Losing your job,

And now you’ve done the one thing you promised your mother you wouldn’t do, “donated” your blood to vampires who can afford the real thing.

“Sorry, did we just pass payroll? ” You said, confused,  watching other humans pass you with checks in hand, various degrees of relief and despair on their faces.

“We’ll be stopping by there on the way out, my supervisor just wants to talk to you first, it won’t take long, I promise.” She said, not looking back and you force yourself to keep pace with her.

You don’t have the time to ponder much when the nurse pushes you forward into a poorly light office with a vampire in an ill-fitting suit awaits you, same semi-empty smile on his face, like poorly disguised hunger.

“You’re the donor I’ve been hearing about! Please take a seat, we have much to discuss.”  He said.

“We do?”  You didn’t want to but you sank into the plastic chair.

“We do!  First, here’s your passport, we didn’t know you didn’t have one but it’s all very official, you shouldn’t have a problem in customs, the court took care of that.”  The supervisor said, taking a second to stop from bustling around his office to slide a very real looking passport on the desk in front of you. 

“I think there’s been a mistake, I’m here to get paid. I gave you my blood and now I’m supposed to get a check just like it said in the brochure. I have to meet my landlord so whatever this is, I’m sorry but I have to go.” You said, starting to stand up but the nurse’s extremely strong grip on your shoulder sits you right the fuck back down. 

The smile never leaves the supervisor’s face but widens a bit, his fangs fully on display as he pushes a packet in front of you and flips to a page.

“You may have read the brochure, but you neglected to read the paperwork, Paragraph C Subsection 2 right above your signature. You agreed for your blood to be tested as part of your donation agreement and should the results of that test be of interest to our private clients, they are  to be notified for additional donation requests. You signed, your blood was tested, and the results were astounding enough for our clients to be notified.”

“ I don’t care if you found glitter in my blood, I want my payment and I’d like to go home now. “ You said, adding some bass to your voice that begins to shake when the nurse closes the door.

“ Allow me to break this down for you: you have something rare in your blood that makes you valuable, valuable enough to warrant an invitation from a very powerful client of ours to join them at their home.  You can accept the invitation and the protection and financial compensation that comes with that or you can decline that invitation.”

“I-” He puts up one finger to silence you.

 “Upon a verbal decline, that protection and financial compensation is null and void, this clinic will be paid for the inconvenience and my lovely nurse and I will drain you dry to find out just  what makes your blood so special.  You wrote on your paperwork that you have no next of kin so no one will care what happens next but something will happen next.  You have thirty five seconds to decide.”

“Are you fucking-

“Thirty four seconds now.”

Your phone kept going off in your bag, in near tandem with the beating of your heart.

This wasn’t going to stop, was it?

 Even if you had managed to get the money for rent for this month, what about the next?

You had already lost so much and now your choices were die here or die possibly later. 

“ I accept the invitation.”

“Excellent, King Morpheus will be most pleased.” The supervisor said, handing over the passport and tickets.

“Vampire royalty isn’t real.” You said, begrudgingly taking the passport.

“I’m sure you’ll find out when he kills you. Don’t forget to fill out the customer service survey on your way out!”  You’re not so politely shoved out of the office by the nurse with no money and a passport you have no idea how they got.

“Forgot to mention, your flight leaves in one hour, boarding pass has been sent to your phone.” The supervisor pops his head out before slamming the door back in your face. 

“One hour?!”

[ohraicodoll]

"Calliope paused and the sadness was apparent even in the dim lighting. There was pain there, bright and sparkling as if whatever had happened was fresh. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was. If their son had died or something worse had happened. Morpheus didn’t speak of him at all and I could see in her face that whatever had befallen the boy, it hadn’t been good. I didn’t want to learn second-hand. It was too big, too important. I’d wait for him to tell it when he was ready, if he’d ever be ready. And so she nodded, “Of course. It is…difficult for both of us. But it should be something he tells you himself.” We were getting closer to the area of my apartment, but I wasn’t feeling as anxious anymore. Her presence was nice, reassuring even if an air of sadness hung around her, “I must not quite be what you expected. I’m so very human.” She smiled, eyes brightening, “You say that as if it’s a bad thing. Being human is wonderful, but yes I am a bit surprised. I wasn’t expecting him to be with a mortal given-” The muse seemed to cut herself off, looking unsure and hesitant." Nano goal hit for the day, may be done with this chapter and able to post it to AO3 tomorrow

[melancholypancakes]

I just came up with this involving witch! Reader connecting with the ancestor! Reader fanfic idea I have which is still open to anyone who wants to write it :3

F/n= friend name

Y/n= Your name

A/n= Ancestor! Name

F/n is walking in the streets with Y/n while talking then suddenly Y/n weaved at someone.

And that someone gave her a small smile and waves back.

F/n was confused for a second then realizes it’s just the goth guy Y/n been talking to for weeks.

“I’ll be right back!” She says as runs up to talk to dream, F/n was not impressed.

F/n was glad their friend was making new friends but why some old dude dressed in all black EVERYDAY.

F/n watches as Y/n talks to dream as she smiles at him asking “how was your day?” and “what have you’ve been doing lately?”.

After talking the two said their goodbyes and Y/n went back to F/n as they look at her unimpressed.

“Seriously, Y/n what do you see in that guy?” They said as the two continue walking.

“Oh, don’t be like that he’s nice once you get to know him. He’s not really scary as people look at him to be y’know don’t judge a book by it’s cover!” Y/n says happily.

“I don’t know, he seems odd I just get a bad feeling. Don’t you find it strange he dresses the same, never talks and when he does it’s weird??” F/n says judging.

“You’re just paranoid, he just likes dressing all black and he’s an introvert.” Y/n continues.

“I don’t really know, me and Dream just get each other. I met him in the park and we just instantly connect like as if we met before.” Y/n says.

“We can just sit in the bench, feeding the birds and talk about nothing for hours, we just had each other..” Y/n says as she smiles.

F/n can see how Y/n cares about dream a lot by the glimmer in her eyes and smiles softly.

571 years ago…

A young woman exits out the church while carrying a basket of berries before heading home in the streets.

Suddenly the woman gets startled by a voice beside her.

“Miss A/n it’s rather late…are you sure it’s wise to walk alone?” A man says with long black hair in cassock clothing.

“Oh Father it’s just you, you startled me” she chuckles nervously

“I’m sorry that was not my intention…If you don’t mind would you like me to accompany you home?” He asks.

A/n blushes and thinks it would be unwise to walk alone considered there is wild animals.

“ Yes, Father if you have the time but I do have to get back and feed my children…you know how they are always hungry” she laughs.

Father smiles at her softly and walks her home, “how are you A/n and you’re family?” He asks with concern.

“Oh, we’re well…the children are helping out their aunts and uncles to provide as I try to keep them from struggling” she says as she smiles sadly at their situation.

Father knew A/n was struggling financially and was trying to find food for her children everyday.

“I’m sorry to hear that A/n…” he says as he wishes he could do more to help his friend.

A/n looks at him smiling. “Never mind me, are are you doing? Well in the dreaming I mean.” She asks as they walk.

A/n was a witch serving “Father” in the dreaming realm, his name was Morpheus, the lord of dreams and king of the dreaming.

“The same A/n…just dreamers, wanders, reading and sometimes paperwork nothing I can’t handle.” He says as they get closer to A/n cottage.

“Well, I’m glad to hear you’re doing well to..” she says as she smiles.

When there at A/n’s cottage, A/n opens her door before stopping “ thank you, for walking me home Father…maybe I’ll see you tonight?” She says looking at him.

“Indeed. You will A/n…” he says before they bid each other good night to each other then A/n closes her door behind her.

“Mommy!! Mama!” She suddenly hears her giggling chilling running to her, “ we missed you! Auntie made dinner!” They giggle as A/n smiles.

“Well, I bet you’re really hungry if you waited for me. I brought some more berries for us to eat for dessert” she says as she tickles them.

The children giggle as they soon gather with their mother to eat at the table….

The present…

Dream is looking at music boxes with Y/n during winter time and Y/n see a pretty one.

Y/n decides to open it as it plays a soft sad melody.

“The King in the Dreaming, The Witch in a forever limbo til reborn again, the goddess lost in time, the prince left alone in the underworld”

Y/n looks at it sadly, “This is such a sad lullaby, who would want this music box?” Y/n says as she closes it.

“Yes…it is rather melancholy…” Dream says thinking back on his past with his long lost lover A/n, his Ex-Wife Calliope and their deceased son Orpheus.

Y/n then grabs Dream hand, “ c’mon let’s go somewhere else, I know just the place and I’ll buy you some hot chocolate!

Y/n pulls Dream along and he blushes as he finally notices Y/n warm hand on his cold one.

He squeezes her hand in return “What’s this “Hot chocolate”?” Dream asks.

Y/n turns, has surprised look and realizes he’s never heard of Hot chocolate.

“You have Hot chocolate? Okay it’s so good and keeps you warm!” She says as she smiles at him.

Dream feels warm with Y/n but if she prefers him to try this “Hot chocolate” with her he’ll do it…

[morpheusbaby3]

Calliope, Titania, Bast, Nuala, Hob flirting with Morpheus:

Morpheus:

[7-wonders]

I know you’re going through a lot of big changes right now, but I’d just like to say that your Calliope fanfic has now made me realize how beautiful (both inside and out) Calliope is, and I respectfully ask that you inject some Morpheus/reader/Calliope hc’s directly into my veins-

Hi I'm starting to feel a bit better and ready to gift you some hc's!! Let me know if you want to see more of this throuple 🤗 Read To the world we dream about here

Okay, first and foremost Morpheus and Calliope have come to an understanding that, while they both could have done more to help Orpheus, at the end of the day, his choices were his own. If they can't stop resenting each other for the death of their son/reconcile those feelings, there is no hope for any sort of relationship. So, for the sake of these headcanons and the continuity from my previous fic, they've worked through these issues.

(I do think that, had things gone differently and pride not gotten in the way, they would have been able to have these discussions like calm, rational adults)

ANYWAYS

You all come to the realization that you care for each other romantically on your own, and it makes things extremely awkward for a good moment

For you especially, where monogamy is likely all you grew up with/all you know

Morpheus and Calliope are no strangers to the idea of sharing or having multiple partners: many gods and goddesses and mythical creatures happily participate in it

Also they may or may not have had a third in their bed a few times who knows

But they're as aware that you're a mortal as you are, and just sort of automatically assume that you wouldn't be interested in both of them

They're each prepared to fight each other for your affection, even as they ignore the return of feelings for each other that they thought long gone

All in all, there's a lot of angst for everyone before you all remember that you have two hands each

Speaking of hands, Calliope loves holding yours!

She's usually always touching you in some way, whether that be her hand holding yours or your arms linked together, a hand on your lower back or your bodies pressed together when you're sitting next to each other

Physical touch is not one of Morpheus's love languages, so his touches are softer and more fleeting

A hand brushing against yours

The brief press of lips to your forehead

Though his touches are nothing like Calliope's, they're just as sweet and appreciated

PET. NAMES. So many pet names!

Calliope calls you things like treasure, sweetest, sweetheart, lovely

Morpheus enjoys calling you beloved, my heart, dearest, starlight

Calliope and Morpheus have their own names for each other, old endearments in languages you could never begin to understand

It's rather sweet, actually

When you sleep or rest in bed with both of your lovers, it's usually you or Calliope in the middle

(Morpheus feels too trapped)

The three of you spend a lot of time together, but most of the time it's in the Dreaming, which is most convenient for all parties when two of the three are important cosmic beings

Lots of long walks in Fiddler's Green or quiet evenings spent curled up in a secluded corner of the library

Calliope tries to visit you in the Waking when she can, but Morphues is reluctant to leave his realm (which you completely understand)

There's lots of one-on-one time too, with you and Calliope, you and Morpheus, or Morpheus and Calliope

It helps to strengthen your individual relationships, and make you better partners overall

They find your human quirks and traits extremely endearing, though Calliope has more experience with them than Morpheus

Honestly, having a human partner is the best thing that could have happened to Morpheus and Calliope in regard to their healing

They were both forced to deal with the absolute worst of humanity for a very long time and now, through you, they get to see the weird and wonderful parts of humanity

You're a breath of fresh air, and every time they watch you hold the door open for strangers, or someone randomly compliments your smile, they understand why you still have such hope for your species

It's usually said that to capture the affection/attention of a deity is not something that anybody wants, that it will only bring ruin to the human unlucky enough to be in that position

When it's two of them? Destruction is all but assured

You say bring it on

If you're to meet your end while experiencing the greatest loves you've ever known and ever will, then in your mind, that's a good way to go

Calliope and Morpheus are very much the possessive, passionate creatures that one would think, and they refuse to let any harm come to you

They'll go up against anyone, anything, to keep you safe, be it Hell or the Fates themselves

[roguelov]

morpheus: this is my ex wife calliope please don't fight

reader: calliope? hi my name is single i mean single im single no i mean im single i mean my name is single im unattached will you marry me

morpheus: you are not single and you are very attached and married to me

reader to morpheus: i know this

reader to calliope: hi I'm single im single I'm si- *is dragged away by morpheus*

ME!!! God I would love to just be in a throuple with Dream and Calliope

Calliope chuckled. “Oh, Morpheus, you needn’t be so harsh.”

Dream rolled his eyes, releasing his grip on you. “And yet, I feel I will come to regret this action.”

You glanced away, flustered. “Sorry, I’ll behave.”

“Oh will you now?” Dream raised an eyebrow.

Your ears burned. “… I’ll try to.”

Calliope only laughed again. She stepped forward towards you. She gently tipped your chin up with her finger, forcing you to look at her. “Oh, don’t let him push you around. I certainly had my fair share of it.”

Dream sighed, “Calliope, please -“

“Hush, now.”

Dream swiftly closed his mouth. He looked more displeased by the fact he obeyed so quickly.

Calliope carefully tilted your chin as she gazed at you, or admired you. Her eyes swept over your face, taking it all in. “I can see what you caught my former husband’s attention, truly such beauty.”

You dropped your gaze. A heat spread over your chest and face. “Oh, uh, thank you.”

“Is he treating you right?” Calliope asked, as if Dream was not directly beside her.

“He is,” you mumbled, utterly bashful.

“Oh, eyes up, love. And speak clearly.” Calliope hummed.

Your eyes snapped up. Your breath was immediately taken away. Both Calliope and Dream stared directly at you, their combined gaze was intense to say the least. You shuddered.

“Right, uh, sorry,” you cleared your throat. “I, um, I said he is treating me nicely.”

“Is that so?” Calliope teased, glancing to Dream.

Dream rolled his eyes. “I am capable of such things.”

“You are, but the Morpheus I knew was … lacking in such areas.”

His lips thinned slightly, “I have changed.”

“And I see that, love. I’m happy for you.”

Dream’s expression then softened. He simply nodded unable to say another words.

“Perhaps we could all have a picnic or tea later,” Calliope suggested. Her eyes flickered back over to you. “I would certainly love to get to know you more.”

“Yes,” you nearly shouted as you tried to hold back your growing excitement.

Calliope smiled. “Then I shall see you both later.”

Calliope leaned in kissing your cheek, and returning the favor to Dream. She floated away, leaving you and Dream standing there completely dumbstruck.

[tulipsforyourlips]

✧˖°. i found you ✧˖°. (5)

|| the sandman x dead boy detectives ||

SUMMARY: You run the dead boys detective agency along with your two best friends. And somehow two ghosts and a living girl make it work. Until you dream one night, of dream himself.

PAIRING: dream of the endless x fem!reader

WC: 1500

WARNINGS: mentions of blood (the usual)

PART 5 ✧˖°.

You were sitting on your bed, pondering over Dream's words or actually the lack of them from last night. Why was it bothering you so much who he loved or did not? He probably had gone through an army of lovers being so ancient. You knew there was Nada, Calliope, courtesy of Matthew's inability to stay quiet for more than two seconds, and now Hope. But there was something about the first time he had said her name, pure anguish coating every syllable, that had your heart retreating into itself.

"No mate there is absolutely no way I am leaving her behind." Charles' muffled voice sliced through your silent rambling.

"Charles you cannot be serious. We can't put the entire agency to a halt because of one client," Edwin wailed.

"What's the problem?" You peeped through your door.

That's when you saw Jesse's curled form on the couch and the overheard conversation bore logic.

"She's still here?"

"Yeah." Edwin's face wore a scowl. But as he sensed the oncoming taunting suggestion from you, he hurriedly added, "which I have no problem with of course."

"Sure mate," you smirked. "I will stay with her."

Charles lifted his eyebrows.

"Yeah I am feeling super tired anyways. You guys go ahead," you assured the lot of two.

"How do you manage to feel exhausted after sleeping 10 hours a day absolutely stuns me. You stun me woman." Charles relieved a deep breath.

"Aw thankyou love," you pouted.

"Alright, Hazel keep a watch on her. And if anything strange occurs, call us immediately," Edwin spoke. "You sure you aren't staying behind because of your mysterious guy?"

You gave a mock chuckle.

"No seriously Haz how are things going with him?" Charles wiggled his brows. "Which base-"

"Okay okay okay out! Both of you."

You dropped the book titled 'Hope' with a thud on the table in front of you. You were waiting for Dream to join you tonight and in the meantime, your inquisitiveness had gotten a tight grip on you. So you had raked the library to locate Dream's past lover's record successfully, you might add. Excitement swooshing in your entire body, you flung the book open. Nothing. White blankness stared at you. You flipped through the pages. Still nothing. Are you kidding me? How is this even possible? Lucienne had told you that any being, immortal or not, living or not, had a book dedicated to their dreams and stories. Before you could lose more of your mind on the enigma on your hands, you heard the flapping of Matthew's wings. You quickly put the useless book back in its place.

"Boss wants ya."

You gaped at the apparition in front of you. Consider a rhinoceros, but bigger and scarier and from a fairy land. He was partially covered in moss and vines loosely wrapped around his ears and horn. You pitied the humans back in the waking world whose dreams the animal had ever had a cameo in. You were just glad you weren't one of them. Now not so much as the whimsical rhinoceros slowly made its way in your direction. You stretched your arm in front of you. And closed your eyes in concentration. The sounds of heavy stamping grew louder. You can do this. You have been doing this for weeks. The literal fate of the world depended on you being able to do this. You opened your eyes. Yellow eyes speedily approached you. You got this. Blinding pain seared through your palm where the pointed horn of the creature tore through your skin and the acute scent of copper wafted into the air. Dream raised his hand to dispel his creation.

"No!" you shouted. "Don't."

"Haz-"

"I got this." You got this.

Blackness seeped into the periphery of your vision but you reeled your focus back to the huffing beast in front of you. He started towards you again, sand flying from the rear of his feet. You shut your eyes. Enough. You are chosen for a destiny far greater than yours, Dream's words from your first encounter surfaced in your mind when you had accused him of being a serial killer. So much time had passed since then, so much time putting your body and mind through vigorous training, so much time withholding yourself from your bestfriends, so much time with Dream, who had placed his faith in your hands, gentle and soft. A faint energy began buzzing in the core of your soul, spreading throughout, tickling every nerve in your body and roaring in your ears. You opened your eyes, the creature's angry black pupils crashed against your outstretched bleeding hand, almost. The second his bristly face came in contact with your touch, his pupils dilated and he skidded to a stop. Your hand glowed with the hum of energy that slowly receded back from wherever it had come from, inside you. The animal leaned into your touch before pulling back and leaped away to from wherever Dream had summoned him. Dream. You tilted your head to where he stood, his lips twitched upwards all so ever slightly, a ghost of a smile. A fire ignited in your heart, from where it trickled down your insides, painting them warm, at the sight. He walked towards you and the wave of adrenaline rush that had kept you distracted from your punctured hand that was reddening the sand below, died down. Before the blood loss could take its toll on you, Dream's calloused yet silken fingers wrapped around your wounded hand. His touch though cold, lit your skin on fire. He rubbed sand over your hand. The blow of the pain simmered down to a dull ache. He severed the contact between your skins, leaving behind an abrupt chill. It was as if your body was calling for his hand again, craving for his touch.

His perfect lips parted, perfect? you perverted brain get a grip, "Hazel? Hazel?"

Shit. Were you staring? "Yeah,"

"How is your hand?"

You looked down, a black cloth was tied around it. How long were you zoned out?

You might have cared for the throbbing pain still lapping around it if you weren't reveling in the ecstasy your triumph had wrought. "It's better. Thankyou."

"You did well tonight, mortal."

"Shut. Up!" You turned towards the newly joined raven on your shoulder. "He can hand out praise?" You asked incredulously.

"Unsolved mysteries of the world," Matthew replied.

Dream's lips fought a smile.

You fisted blades of grass within your fingers as you sat alongside the Dream lord in your favourite place of all the realms. The darkness was slowly fading away, a hint of pink dotting the mountain edges. It would soon be time for you to wake up.

"Dream,"

Morpheus turned his attention to you. You didn't like the intensity of it. 

"Yes mortal?"

You hesitated.

Dream's gravelly voice jeered, "How many questions do you have?" Amusement danced in his eyes. 

You sighed and laid down your head on the soft grass. "It was you, wasn't it? That day at the sisters' house. You saved me from Aura." You finally gave voice to the doubt solidifying in your mind.

"That isn't a question Hazel."

"Why?"

"Because you are important to the survival of the realms." 

You felt a brush of disappointment at his answer. What were you expecting? That made a perfect explanation for why he had saved you. This partnership was not forged out of any preference or want. You were chosen for this. He was stuck with you.

"So what happens now? With the nightmares under control- Why did you even create them in the first place? Just some merry dreams would have sufficed don't ya reckon?"

"Nightmares serve a crucial purpose. They are merely meant to reflect a man's worst fears so he can face them."

"I wish I could say makes sense."

"Don't trouble your puny mortal brain with the rules of the universe," he said in a teasing tone.

Your laugh was gradual but it came. He was getting better with his jokes. You felt Dream watch you intently. He had begun to open up. You had managed to writhe little information about his past but whatever you had, the Corinthian, Roderick Burgess, Rose Walker, he had given it up willingly. Do you ever get lonely? You had asked him your first time in the Dreaming. Even though he hadn't replied to you then, you had come to know the answer. He was just as eager for company as you were for his.

"Well back to the concerned topic, with the dreams now learning to trust again, what happens now?" You asked.

The sun had emerged from the diving nook between the mountains. Its rays spilled honey all around you. 

"We will decide tomorrow." Were the last words of your dream as you were tugged back into wakeness.

[natsmindx]

⋆.˚⋆✮⋆.˚ Desired Love

Dream x F! Reader Oneshot

Dream x Harmonia (reader), daughter of Aphrodite and Ares

Song inspo: Astronomy by Conan Gray

Warnings: Melancholy, angsty, oddly romantic?

A/Note: This is my first ever blog/written work published ever! I miss Morpheus and there’s hardly any work published for him so I got to work…hope you all enjoy!

PSA: this is not perfect :)

“Here face to face. Stranger that I once knew…”

Backstory: You and Morpheus had known each other for years, centuries actually. You always had a soft spot for Dream of the Endless. But did he have a soft spot for you? As a daughter of gods you knew your position. When you heard of Morpheus and Calliope’s marriage you were forced to back away until you were out of Dreams life entirely. Even when he was suffering his sons death, his wife abandoning him, a failed relationship with a mortal, and when he was captured by said mortals. You hadn’t seen him in centuries, until one day.

You were sitting on your throne, reading a mortals plead for harmony within their family’s house ownership. You had plenty of those, they always made you chuckle. Silly mortals and their fights over an object. Apart from those pleads, you also received pleads from the wars, those praying were being heard and you had that as your priority. Meeting with your brother Deimos and your father Ares, trying to get them to stop these affairs and let you do your work without causing more harm.

As you were reading you were suddenly interrupted by footsteps approaching your throne chair.

…

“I am quite busy” I said still focused on the book.

“To see me?” A low, raspy like tone spoke out loud

I froze completely, not daring to look up from my book. I stared at the page, eyes widened, not daring to glare at whose voice that belonged to.

Dream…Morpheus

I began to gain sensation again, frantically looking around the page I left on. I began to slowly look up from my book.

There he was. Tall, lean, messy haired, in all black. Morpheus, the Dream Lord, the King of Nightmares.

“Morpheus” you whispered still in shock, I couldn’t believe my eyes or ears. Perhaps I myself was dreaming. Yes, I had to be dreaming. I’ve wanted this for so long.

“Harmony” he said out loud in his dreamy voice that could easily induce me to sleep if I gave it the power to.

His eyes pleading for something, to say something. He always had that about him, he never used his voice much but his eyes. Always glazed with tears that I didn’t know if they were sad or happy. But that’s the thing, I had never seen Dream cry. Ever. The last time we saw each other was over 300 years ago, after I found out he was bound to marry my cousin Calliope, his now ex wife.

“Is everything okay?” I spoke gently, slowly getting up from my throne to meet him face to face.

“I…I” he chocked on his own words.

“Onerous” you said softly while looking into his eyes

“I am sorry” he slowly said. His eyes getting redder by the second.

You were now perplexed by emotions you didn’t know you still had. Romantic ones but also anger.

“Sorry?” You said both in question and in a sarcastic manner

“I was captured. 200 years” he started

“A long time to go over almost my entire existence”

“I am sorry for breaking your heart, abandoning, and humiliating you Harmonia.”

“I am sorry.”

“For all of it.”

I just stared at him, with now red teary eyes.

I hated remembering that day when everything went down, when my parents threatened to ban me from Olympus. To destroy my own realm. I loved Morpheus but within all these years I had found peace with had happened, or so I thought because after all I am the goddess of harmony, why not give myself grace as I do to mortals?

“It’s been years Morpheus.” I say sternly clenching my fists tightly that my nails dug into my palm.

“I am sorry mortals had the audacity to hold you captive. I tried reaching out to your siblings. Death and even Destiny but they didn’t want to interfere. After all, I am not your wife Morpheus nor a close friend” I said in a reminding manner while walking away from my throne onto the door to leave. Until he spoke again.

“Calliope and I are not together.” He said quickly. I could feel his despair.

“I know” I said relaxed. Not amused.

I found out about everything. His dead son, his wife leaving him but I didn’t reach out.

I wasn’t allowed to.

His face changed, one from softness to almost anger. Almost as stating how dare I know about what happened and not have comforted him. Not given him, a king, a lord, harmony; but grief comes before any comfort is given. There needs to be acceptance. There needs to be something for harmony to flourish in. He hadn’t allowed for any of it to sink in. Not until now.

“I am sorry for your losses Morpheus. I truly am but it is not my priority to comfort you, not when you took with a grain of salt what we had.” I said bitter. Not like me. Standing still.

“I wasn’t allowed to either way.” you said now angry, wiping a tear away

“Allowed to? Your’re a goddess.” He stated, almost with a hint of sarcasm behind it.

I chuckled.

“A goddess?” I questioned with a light laugh.

“A goddess whose parents threatened to kick her out of Olympus and destroy her realm if she interfered with your wedding and your married life.” I said while pointing angrily at Morpheus.

Dreams facial expressions completely changed. From anger to confusion and sadness.

“What” he said hurt

I stared at him, looking at his eyes with an almost pleading look.

He walked closer to me, mere inches away from my face

“I had to keep my distance Dream. For your sake, for my realms, for humanity.” I said now whispering as his hand reached to cup my cheek gently. I sunk into his palm. A tear running down my face.

Losing harmony would cause havoc on earth. It was too much of a risk.

Morpheus stared into my eyes, cautious of every move.

“Have you said the words, I would have not married her. Have you said the words I would have stayed with you.” He said now with a tear running down his cheek. I wiped it gently away with my thumb.

He’s so pretty.

He was now nearly 2 inches away from me, too close. I keep looking up at him and then looking down.

My skin now goosebumps as I felt Dreams breath against my skin, against my neck.

“You're pointing at stars in the sky that already died.”

“I loved you Morpheus.” I whispered into his ear. Tears silently fell down my cheeks.

“And I hate that after all this I still do.” I ended.

His eyes met mine and they were more red than ever, with streams of tears slowly starting to fall.

Dream had his own faults, his own feelings towards love. He was never lucky in it. A failed marriage and situations where the one he loved never wanted to marry him. Dream still loved Harmonia throughout everything. Yes, maybe a little less when he was married to Calliope but she was still in the back of his head throughout everything.

“Do you think it was easy for me? To forget you and what we had?” He questions you offended.

You think for a second.

“I don’t know Dream. I am pretty sure you were busy.” I said as cold as I could whilst backing away from him.

You weren’t harsh, and you barely got into arguments but you felt a certain way about this situation and anger was one of them. Maybe your father Ares was manipulating this situation, making you angry. He is your father after all and there is a part of him in you whether you liked it or not.

“What are you implying.” He now said hurt.

“Your realm is your first priority. Yes? And during that time your marriage was, your wife. Pleasure is simply a gift from marriage. A gift from my lovely mother and I. I suppose.” You stated, continuing walking away from Dream to sit on your throne chair again wiping dried tears away.

“Pleasure?” He now questioned angrily.

“Yes. Pleasure. My mother made sure to tell me all about it.” you replied cold crossing your legs on the throne.

Aphrodite. The goddess of beauty, passion, fertility and marriage. Blessing everyone but her only daughter.

Dream lowered his head. Almost embarrassed.

“Pleasure is undeniable. I admit it but I am quite sure you have received that as well Harmonia.”

I just stayed there, unable to move as my eyes glistened with tears again. I missed Morpheus so bad. My body craved his. I needed him.

“He needs you.” the wind spoke.

We looked at each other for a couple of seconds and when I was about to get up again Morpheus was now in front of me, leaning down, kissing me.

It was a sloppy, hungry, messy kiss. After centuries of not feeling his touch and his oddly warm hands on my body. We kept kissing for what felt like those centuries we had missed together. I didn’t care what my parents would have to say in the moment.

I wanted my lover back.

The end.

[just-some-random-blogger]

An angst where Dream and Y/N are expecting a baby, Dream misses the birth of the child because he was helping Calliope

First Love

Dream of the Endless x Reader

Summary: You saw the ask. Girl, what the fuck, why the fuck would dream do that to his fucking baby mama? -sincerely, me.

Word Count: 1k+

Warning: Mentions of pregnancy/birth pains/postpartum depression, fem!reader, established relationship, angst, clown shit, typos, etc.

A/N: I'm gonna say it anon, you got issues. i stared at this ask and wondered what i could possibly write for this. at some point i asked myself if i could even write it. here's your answer. suffer... ig... idk angst does not flow naturally from me lol [I JUST FINISHED WRITING IT HAHAHHAH SUFFER] i guess this goes out to all the mothers; idk if mothers read my fics but i see you and i salute you for going through birthing and/or raising children. i hope if you can relate to what reader is going through, you seek help. you aren't crazy. you just had a life altering thing happen to you. you deserve sanctuary. ALSO DO YOU SEE HOW SOFT THEY ARE IN THIS GIF WHAT THE FUCK WHY AM I WRITING THIS? I WISH I WERE CALLIOPE IN IT PLEASEEEEEEEE

He had been caressing my bump when he pulled away and looked afar. I asked him what was wrong. Dream told me she was in trouble. She was calling for him.

"Who's she?"

"Calliope."

Calliope. The muse. The beauty. The one he loved before me.

"Then you should go to her," I mutter under my breath, stoic, as I rub my belly.

"But you are due to give birth soon," his face tenses in concern.

I relax when he places his hand atop of mine and pulls me against him.

"Then don't go to her."

I feel him tense against me. My mouth goes dry.

I pull away from him and see his glassy blue eyes. I feel like retching. I suck in a deep breath and reach out to his cheek, "you are a king, and you said she was in trouble."

Dream's brows furrow.

"You know what it's like to be in trouble and helpless... I am sure she would not call to you if she was not desperate."

I do not know if I say this to soothe him or myself.

But it was apparently enough to convince him.

He grabs my face and kisses my forehead, "I shan't be a long."

But that was a lie.

One that would mark our end.

It all happened so quickly. It was like he left and then the next thing I knew I was giving birth.

I could do nothing but sink in my pain and heartache as I screamed for his name. I called him, Dream, Morpheus, my king, my lord, my love, but he did not come.

He did not come as I began to deliver our child. He did not come as I lamented over my agony. He did not come to me when the baby made it out to the Dreaming. He did not come to me when I stared at the nursing the creature in my arms.

He did not come to the mother of his child.

But then again I realized, so was she; Calliope also bore him a child.

The only difference between her and me was that when she called for him, he came.

And so, I did not want this... thing in my arms.

I did not want something who looked so much like someone who clearly did not want me.

I counted the moments of his return, every second, every minute, every hour; all I did was stare at the clock on the wall.

Lucienne begged me to eat, to sleep, and to nurse that thing and it was only because she wept on her knees that I even agreed to do any of it.

I did not understand... I thought I was meant to be fiercely protective of this creature I had carried inside me. He was made out of love. I spent days perfecting his room, going through countless books to prepare myself for his arrival, sifting through countless names. I thought I would be overjoyed by him, but I don't think I would even care if Lucienne tires of playing mother and forgets to have me nurse him... not even if he eventually stops crying altogether.

The boy was 'til now even nameless, and I could not care less.

"My love."

My whole world stills when I hear this.

He was here. He was finally here.

My breathing is heavy as I walk over to him. He has a smile on his face and even lifts his arms up for me. I do not fall into his arms.

"You've been gone for two days," I mutter over my heavy breaths.

Dream diminishes the space between us and swipe the tears streaming down my cheeks, "I apologize. I did not ex-"

"I called for you," I blurt, "I called for you for hours during my labor."

"And I heard everyone of them, but I cou-"

"But you stayed with her!" I shove his hands away, "but you did not come to me."

"The circumstances did not allow me to-"

Dream does not get to continue when the thing wails from afar.

Soon enough Lucienne comes to us, much more relieved about the return of her master than I. I feel a bitterness rise up my throat when the cries are quickly silenced when the thing is handed to his father. He seemed to recognize him, just as he was recognized.

Dream was clearly overjoyed by him. It was repulsive.

Lucienne calling my name is what brings her king out of his trance. She continues reluctantly, "he shall need to be nursed soon."

Tears continue to stream my face as Dream finally catches my expression.

"My love, I-"

"Do not call me that."

His face falls. His being darkens. His child begins to wail again because of it. The sound angers me.

Lucienne leans towards Dream and whispers something that makes tears streak his face.

I decide then it was enough.

Now that I had seen him, there was no reason for me to stay. I turn to the ring on my hand, the ring that allowed me to travel from his realm back to the waking world, the ring that reminded me of his broken promise to always be there for me. I rub it, willing it to take me away.

A portal opens.

Dream snatches my hand right after Lucienne gets his child from him. He calls my name, and it makes me recoil. I yank out of his grip and flare.

"I do not want to be anywhere near you or that THING ever again!"

"He is your child," Dream whispers as he reaches out to my face, "born out of our love-"

"But you do not love me!" I quip and shove him away, "you would not abandon someone you love!"

"No one is abandoned."

"YOU CHOSE HER!" I shriek, heaving deeply, more and more annoyed by the continuous cries in the air, "now I'm going to choose me."

"You are... unwell," Dream words carefully as he draws nearer.

"And you are nothing to me!" I spit back.

I watch him fall to his knees.

Lucienne gasps when parts of the hall begin to crumble, "my lord!"

"You were my everything. There was nothing, no one before you," I mutter as I rub the jewel of my ring one last time, "but now you are nothing, no one before me."

I slip my ring off and cast it away just before I disappear from the Dreaming.

[ep-the-penguin]

[Child of the Endless]

 └─── Headcanons──➤

[Published: Wednesday, November 23, 2022]

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F. Reader

Word count: 3k+

Warnings: Light spoilers for the comic, a bit of a slow burn, implied child abuse/neglect (not with Morpheus), slight yandere themes/tendencies, also soft Morpheus (is that even a warning?), maybe a tiny bit of OOC Morpheus (who knows, you decide)

Notes: This is longer than I intend this to be, but I hope you like it nonetheless. Also, who else loves the idea of a darker version of Morpheus loving you platonically?

Eh? ...anyone...? Don't leave me hanging here... (༎ຶ‿༎ຶ)

Any comments, theories, and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated and very much welcomed! Especially since this was my first time writing headcanons...

I also would appreciate it if you REBLOGGED my work instead of liking them. It helps not only me but others' works to be put more in the top spots of the tags algorithm, so our works can get seen by as many people as possible. Thank you for understanding!

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What it's like being Morpheus's, Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams, adopted human daughter (unwillingly, mind you)... [Part I]

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⋅✦⋅ Dream isn't a being known to be friendly or open by nature, appearing cold, abrasive, and oftentimes self-obsessed. To most people and even his own subjects, he's a distant and somewhat intimidating guy, and they are right in a way. Even with his past relationships and the passion he had felt for each of them, it's so very rare for him to get attached to someone or simply show any kindness to anyone in general. Especially if we're talking about Dream before his one-hundred-year capture.

⋅✦⋅ After what became of his only son, Orpheus (and Calliope leaving their marriage because of this), he became colder and more reserved than he previously was. Of course, the pain he felt when each of his relationships had ended had hurt him, but practically losing a child (given his son was now just a head and disowned Dream as his father long ago), it's a pain that words can not even express. And because of this, Morpheus couldn't imagine seeing himself getting attached to someone ever again, let alone someone that, dare say, could bring about something he thought lost long ago…

⋅✦⋅ However, all of that drastically changes when he meets you. An ordinary human girl, of all beings.

⋅✦⋅ Your meeting with the Dream Lord could either go one of two ways. The first was that your father was working as a caretaker for Alex Burgess, and he didn't want to leave you alone with a sitter, so he decided to bring you with him to Fawney Rig in Wych Cross. There, you would hear rumors that Alex Burgess's Father captured the devil, and it resides in the basement. Sometimes you'd catch the guards carelessly talking about the supposed 'Dracula' they're being paid to watch over, intriguing you immensely. Not long after being in the mansion, you made a plan to sneak into the basement, where you were met with a pale naked man in a glass dome. His eyes were the first thing you noticed, they shined and burned like distant stars, slowly dissolving into a pale icy blue color the longer you stared at them.

⋅✦⋅ Or, after Morpheus had successfully retrieved all of his tools, he found himself sitting at Waterlow Park in North London, pondering on what his purpose was outside his function. The Lord of Dreams felt empty whilst he fed the pigeons and ducks with a loaf of fresh bread he brought with him. You were just a simple passerby, wanting to take a break from school work and the 'drama' that always occurs in your household between your parents, and that's when you randomly came across a man dressed in all-black moping. You raised a brow at the sight, curious about his sullen expression, but then saw him feeding the birds with the bread he had, which made you point out that he wasn't supposed to feed them bread, since it's bad for them. With that, you sat on the bench and began to talk to him, which earned you a weird look from him.

⋅✦⋅ You, for some reason, had immediately grabbed the Dream Lord's attention unlike any other being had before. There wasn't anything particularly special about you, just an average teenage girl. Because of this fact, it left Morpheus entirely confused, yet somewhat intrigued. Trapped inside his glass confinement, he watched with a careful gaze as you slowly approached him, looking around the place as you started to question him. Albeit you were a bit hesitant, more so confused if anything. At first, he had tried ignoring you and your questions just as he did with Roderick and his son. However, he couldn't ignore the genuine concern when you looked at him, someone who was but a stranger to you. It was the first time in his captivity that someone showed him any kind of concern for his well-being, someone who showed him kindness, even if it was small. In the park, Morpheus was less on guard now that he was free and more powerful than he was before, but instead of fully ignoring you and the questions you would ask him, he would answer vaguely, which ended up frustrating you, and to his surprise, he found your reactions quite amusing (he also found your little pouts adorable, not that he'll ever admit it, out loud anyway-).

⋅✦⋅ After your first visit to him, he found himself surprised by the gentle warm feeling slowly swelling in his chest. With imprisoned Morpheus, he was wary of you and your intentions, knowing that humans were all selfish creatures, and eventually you would ask him for something, just like his captors. But the more time you spent with him in the basement, talking to him even though he never answered, slowly softened his wariness of you. The more he thought about it, the more he understood that you being there with him was a great risk you were taking, not only for you but your father. You always set a timer on your wristwatch, and immediately leave once it went off, not before sending your goodbyes to him. With pigeon feeding Morpheus, he was curious about your random interaction with him and became more so at the thought of speaking to you again (even if you were the one doing most of the talking).

⋅✦⋅ Not before long, with each visit from you, the warmth within his chest seemed to grow bigger until he became extremely fond of you. At first, he tried to deny his care for you, then resenting you for unearthing a piece of him he had previously believed didn't exist as an Endless being (not that lasted very long. With one look at your face, that anger immediately demolishes into nothing but a distant memory). In truth, even with his previous relationships, he wasn't used to loving anything, and when he (not so) surprisingly found himself doing so, he firmly believed that he would eventually lose them in the end. Everyone that he had loved, that was supposed to love him back, had either one way or another abandoned or forsaken him, and it left him with a deep ache in his heart. However, with each visit from you, he realized this feeling, this fondness for you was the best for him. That you were the best of him, that caring for you was what made him painfully, yet so wonderfully human. Along with this, you had brought him hope, something he thought he had lost long ago. After everything he has been through, with his relationships and the tragedy that befell his son eons ago (and also his imprisonment), he never thought himself to be able to undoubtedly care for someone again, let alone a human child of all beings. You had quickly made your way into his Endless heart, without even knowing it.

⋅✦⋅ You became a constant figure in the Dream Lord's life, and he couldn't stop himself from seeing you. Not that he could in his imprisonment (nor did he ever want to). You were a very curious child, always showing how much you cared for him and his well-being, eyes shining brightly whenever you would talk to him as if his presence brought you happiness. And during this whole thing, Morpheus found himself unconsciously smiling more around you, staring at you with a soft look in his starry/icy blue gaze.

⋅✦⋅ With imprisoned Morpheus, he remained silent but would listen intently to you ramble about whatever topic you had in your mind, making subtle movements and being sure you knew he was listening to you. One particular memory was engraved in his mind where his stoic demeanor shifted and you had seen a smile gracing his lips. At first, you appeared slightly shocked, but then, your entire face lit up at the sight of his smile, however small it was. He remembered so vividly how excited you had gotten, how proud you were to achieve making him smile, and promising that you'll make him smile again, but even bigger. Morpheus wanted to see that expression on you again, the pure joy you had, and it was all because of him simply letting out a smile. When he was left alone in the basement once more, he was quite taken aback at the thought that he was the one to make you beam so brightly.

⋅✦⋅ With free Morpheus, he'd quietly listen to you talk, and would sometimes ask questions, and he couldn't help but feel pride swelling in his chest whenever your eyes would brighten up at his very simple questions. You'd become more lively, your smile widening with joy, and he noticed this particularly happened whenever the conversation was about your hobbies or the thing you found yourself enjoying recently. While you excitedly spoke, Morpheus quietly observed your expression, wondering when was the last time he had made someone this happy, had someone smile up at him with the brightest of smiles, eyes nearly glimmering with stars that were almost similar to his.

⋅✦⋅ As much as he cared for you, he was still careful to not get too attached to you. However, (surprise, surprise) that didn't end up happening. When Morpheus began to regard you as his child, seeing you as his daughter, he knew he had to quickly sever his connection with you, however great the ache in his chest hurt to just consider the idea. For he knew getting close to any human was a dangerous thing, not only for himself and his realm but for you. If he didn't, he'd have to watch you grow into the fine young woman he knew you would become, slowly growing older and older until his sister Death finally arrived and took you away to the Sunless lands. Or, the universe would see his affection for you as some sort of crime and end up punishing you, an innocent child, for his selfishness of not wanting to be alone once more. He didn't think he could live with the pain of losing another child again, having to be forced to watch you wither and die just like every other human that has ever existed before you.

⋅✦⋅ With free Morpheus, he could sever your relationship instantly, yet found himself hesitating when he was in your presence, waiting for the 'right time' to do it. Imprisoned Morpheus however didn't have that luxury. Instead, he forced himself to build up walls around his heart, for he knew the moment he was finally free, he had to immediately leave you and wanted to lessen that pain. He recognized that if he didn't do this, the pain would be too much for him to bear.

⋅✦⋅ However, all of that changed, depending on which path fate decided for you and the Dream Lord to have.

⋅✦⋅ With imprisoned Morpheus, he instantly knew there was something wrong when you entered the basement with the lack of your usual bright greeting. Not even a smile was being shown his way. You quietly took a seat in front of him like you usually did, and that's when he noticed an old book in your hands. When he glanced at you in question, he found that you were avoiding his gaze, which confused him but more so worried him, especially when you finally did meet his gaze, you looked completely lost, guilty even.

⋅✦⋅ You apologized that you didn't realize it sooner, apologized for the wrongdoings that Roderick and his son did to him, and most importantly, that you were sorry for being so blind. Morpheus sat there, completely stunned by your little speech, but more so when your tearful gaze turned into determination as you declared that you were going to get him out of there. Morpheus felt his starry eyes water, his hope of being free, of going back home to his kingdom that had once seemed so far from his reach was now so very close, and that was all because of you. And you, a child that possessed such a rare and beautiful heart didn't ask anything in return, just for him to set things right for everyone. He slowly placed his hand on the glass, watching with a tender look as you placed your smaller one on the glass, smiling up at him.

⋅✦⋅ With free Morpheus, you two were walking through the park, the Dream Lord silently cherishing his last visit with you. You then suddenly pushed him aside, causing him to stumble for a very brief second. He heard you let out a noise of pain and saw you on the ground, along with a male and his bicycle on the ground beside you. The sight of you hurt, blood seeping from your now scrap and dirty hands caused something dangerous to take hold of him. That feeling grew, even more, when he saw the man that had slammed into you with his bike reach out to help you up. If looks could kill, the mortal that dared hurt you would have been dead right where he stood. And if his glare wasn't bad enough, his voice was.

⋅✦⋅ It was so cold, so full of barely contained wrath as he commanded the man to not touch you. Not only did this leave the cyclist and the people around you frozen in place, but it also left you feeling afraid of Morpheus, being unable to recognize the man in front of you. Without another word, he quickly yet gently picked you up (bridal style) and carried you out of there. You were surprised by his actions but mostly embarrassed as you tried hiding your face in his chest, from the eyes of the people there. You asked him about it, but he didn't say anything, bringing you to a quiet area where he carefully tended to your wounds.

⋅✦⋅ Morpheus knew then and there that he couldn't leave you, your love for him was far too precious to abandon. He made a promise to himself that very day that he was going to love you for all eternity, that he would do better, for you deserved that and much, much more.

⋅✦⋅ Whenever you had to leave him, to avoid getting caught by the guards or to head back home and start on your homework (or how you would put it, to avoid your parents arguing about your whereabouts), it left him feeling immensely saddened by it. However, you would always playfully tease him, asking if he was sad, which would either have him send you a pointed look or quietly scoff, denying such a claim of being sad, even though you both knew it to be untrue. You'd reassured him that you would always come back, and you did

⋅✦⋅ Until one day after growing completely attached to you, you suddenly stopped appearing.

⋅✦⋅ At first, he thought you were late since it wasn't the first time it had happened, which you'd apologize for it. But as time continued to pass, with no sign of you coming, Morpheus began to grow worried.

⋅✦⋅ Even if you were late, you never missed a meeting with him. What could have possibly happened to cause you to miss it? But Morpheus, with the hope you gave to him, allowed himself to calm down, believing that you'll show up the next day. He knew you wouldn't just stop out of nowhere, especially if we're talking about imprisoned Morpheus. Yet that didn't stop the ache from building deep within his chest at the thought of something bad that could be happening to you.

⋅✦⋅ One day turned into two, then three, then four, and by the time he knew it, it had been a week since he last saw you. His concern grew to the point where he was nearly distracted from his duties, mind clouded by endless thoughts of you.

⋅✦⋅ With imprisoned Morpheus, he'd silently sit in his glass confinement, his thoughts always circling back to you, to your silly little rambles, your quiet and adorable laughs, your precious smiles. He was so used to being alone in the basement (alone in general, let's be honest here), sitting in the silence he had forced upon himself. However, the longer you were away, it started to become torture for him. And this can be said for free Morpheus. He'd quietly sit on the same bench you two always sat on, mindlessly watching the people there as his thoughts would go to you. Sometimes his raven Matthew popped in because Lucienne, his librarian, sent the male bird to check up on him.

⋅✦⋅ Perhaps you had simply grown bored of him, finally finding someone willing to spend time with you and listen to your conversations. Someone better, someone who wasn't him. It wouldn't be the first time. If we're talking about imprisoned Morpheus, he would feel even worse as those thoughts plagued his mind. Why would someone, let alone a human child, want to spend your time with him, someone who's trapped in a glass prison and doesn't say anything in response to you and your questions? Or maybe you have possibly changed your mind about freeing him. You didn't owe him anything, you only stumbled upon him through your own merits. That last thought alone sent him down a deep, almost dark spiral.

⋅✦⋅ Morpheus had tried finding you through your dreams (even if his powers in the basement were very weakened), yet he couldn't find you. By this point, the Dream Lord was beginning to become quite desperate to see you again, if only it was for a second. He never felt like this before in his entire existence, as if his Endless being needed you by his side for him to continue onward.

⋅✦⋅ When you were, one way or another, back in his life once more (and imprisoned Morpheus no longer in his glass confinement), there was a heavy weight lifted off his chest, as if he was allowed to finally breathe again. Upon seeing your face, nothing can ever compare to the enormous joy he felt, and at that very moment, Morpheus would make certain that you would never leave his sight again. Your unexpected absence from him for the first time since knowing each other made him understand that he simply couldn't live without you, his precious child. He couldn't bear the pain of you being far from him, where he couldn't find you or make sure that you were safe. You are far too important to the Endless.

⋅✦⋅ After that whole incident, the Dream Lord began to send his raven Matthew to watch over your waking life, sometimes even watching you through his companion's eyes (much to the raven's annoyance). When you went to sleep, Dream would personally watch over your dreams, making sure no nightmare dared to enter the beautiful dreams he carefully crafted especially for you.

⋅✦⋅ Too many times the Dream Lord found himself being affected by the thoughts of you one day leaving him as everyone he had ever loved did, disowning him as his own son had done eons ago. It all had hurt him at that time (though, he'd never admit it), but just the thought of losing you, of you hating and abandoning him, causes him a great deal of pain at just the mere thought. He couldn't possibly imagine going through that again, knowing that there would be nothing left of him…

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Would anyone be down for a more detailed version of the two different meeting scenarios? Separately, of course. I think it's a pretty neat idea, considering I would have more freedom to further expand the relationship between Dream and the Reader in the different meetings, whichever fate has decided for them to have.

But what do you guys think? I would absolutely love to know!

Until next time my dear readers!

[darklinsblog]

Sweet Distraction | Chapter I

Summary: Morpheus finds himself at the lowest point in his life, with his son’s passing and Calliope’s departure, the man finds himself looking for a sweet distraction.

Pairing: Dark Morpheus x Human! Reader

Warnings: Smut

Chapter List

The year was 1589, Morpheus had just left Hob Gadling, and he was happy for the man who still had very much excitement to live. But his own personal life, was deteriorating. His son had died and months later his wife Calliope left him, blaming him for the death of their child.

Being honest with himself, he blamed himself as well. The king had hoped for Hob to be a good distraction, and he was for as long as he reunited with him but when he left the pub, the void in his chest would come back.

He started walking with no direction, he simply wanted to keep his mind busy from thinking of his own sorrow and misery, he walked pass a few drunks, and he watched as a man was dragged into a building by a voluminous woman.

A sense of curiosity filled him, he followed the pair, when looking around the room he was greeted by the sight of crowds of people fornicating shamelessly.

Weirdly enough, he stood there watching, until someone poked his shoulder. The tall man turned around finding a stocky and muddy man staring up at him sinisterly.

“Would you like one for yourself? I have just the right girl for you” Morpheus’ eyes shimmered with indescribable emotion, he wanted to decline the promiscuous offer, he should’ve just left, but he stayed.

At the lack of response the man grinned widely. “OI, Y/N GET YOUR ASS HERE” the man roared, the crowd seemed to disperse, allowing a girl to come forward, she had her arms crossed behind her back, looking straight at the floor as she walked, stopping right in front of Morpheus, next to the beefy man.

She was unusually clean for the brothel, she was tiny in comparison to the Endless, he completely shadowed her, he placed his fingers in her chin, forcing her to look up at him, her big bright eyes shined with fear but she was gorgeous even then.

“She is a virgin, my lord” the man peeped, Morpheus looked at the filthy man, then back at you.

Perhaps you were the sweet distraction he needed, the remedy to dull his suffering. It was the most immoral decision he could ever make, but he was at such a low point in his life, he didn’t care. You were immaculate, untouched and he could mold you to his liking, like a new toy, fresh out of the box for him to play with.

“How much?” He asked quietly.

“Two gold coins, my lord”

He paid the price without a second thought, there was no turning back now. You were his property.

Your new master took your hand and dragged you out of your old home. The Lord of Dreams brought you back to the Dreaming, Lucienne was waiting for the king at the veil, as always. But she was taken back by the unknown girl, who was avoiding all kinds of eye contact, she was barely visible as she stood behind the king.

“Lucienne, I do not want to be bothered today, do not summon me unless it’s an emergency. Is that clear?” The librarian frowned confused, but nodded.

“Of course, my lord”

With that he guided you into the palace into his bedroom, while you simply followed him like a lost pup, in many ways, that’s what you were.

He closed the door behind you and his pupils dilated with lust as he looked at you again.

“Sit on the bed” he commanded and you complied, he grabbed your neck softly, having you look at him with those big eyes of yours. “Let’s make things clear. You are my possession, you will be at my disposal, you will not ask me questions or talk unless I allow it” your heart was beating loudly in your chest, scared of the man that was now your owner, scared of what your life here would be like.

“Say you’ve understood” he growled, pressing down on your neck a little tighter, making you gasp.

“Y-yes” you stammered softly, at your response he let you go, but his eyes never left yours.

“Undress yourself for me” you had no other option but to comply, but this time, you were confident enough to stare back at him as you did. You slowly removed your garments, one by one until you were naked in his bed. He inspected your figure, taking in the sight of you, while your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

You looked so fragile, confused but something about all of this was incredibly alluring to him, he let himself be guided by desire as he kissed you hungrily. You reciprocated his actions shyly, as if you felt overpowered by him, Morpheus felt a rush of excitement when he understood he was standing from a place of power, he was the one making the shots here, not you.

He pressed you down to the bed, his weight falling on you, he was shamelessly touching your body, ripping out of you your first ever sounds of pleasure, he could tell by the way you shivered in a mixture of shame and pleasure, discovering the new sensation.

Adrenaline was cursing through his veins, he loved to be the first one to provoke this feeling on you, to make you his. To truly possess you.

You helped him get undressed, goosebumps rose on your skin at the feeling of his skin against yours, his cock rose your lady parts, making your walls clench in anticipation. He sneaked his hand down, between your bodies, introducing two of his slim fingers inside your clit, your walls adjusted to the intrusion tightly, causing him to groan in your ear.

Your legs tensed as Morpheus pumped his fingers inside you, you pulled his hair as you moaned louder and louder by the second. He fastened his pace, your sounds of pleasure made his member go hard grazing your belly.

The temperature started to rise in your whole body, a knot was forming in your stomach growing tighter and tighter. Your legs trembled uncontrollably and as you came undone Morpheus held you.

Your clit was pulsing even after your orgasm, Morpheus spread your legs apart, eager to be inside you, he could not wait a minute longer. He positioned himself at your entrance, your walls clenching due to the overstimulation.

The Lord of Dreams sank into you so deeply you could feel him in your stomach, you well full of him, so full that you had the sensation that before this you were hollow, like he was the part of yourself you were missing.

His hands were placed at your butt, wrapping your legs around his waist, pushing impossibly deeper inside you, he was thrusting into you with such force, the room was only filled with the sloppy sounds of his flesh crashing into yours. His monstrous pace driving you insane.

Your bodies were sweating and your toes were curling, he was keeping you in place so roughly you were certain his hands would be marked on your body for days.

Sooner than he expected you were coming undone again, but Morpheus kept going chasing after his own release, you could only use his shoulders as support, and at last his seed filled you, you gasped at the strange sensation of his fluids.

The Endless sighed in delight, relaxing and laying down on his bed next to you, he was breathing deeply while you looked at the ceiling, processing what just happened.

Morpheus was breathing deeply beside you and you could feel his hot fluids running down your leg, your whole body was aching. This was beyond strange to you, you looked at him for a second or two.

Had you really lost your virginity to this man? Or was this some sort of bizarre invention of yours? Then the reality of it all suddenly hitting you like a brick. You were this man’s fuck toy for as long as he wished.

After having recovered, the tall man got dressed, you sat up straight, covering your body as you watch him walk around the room. At the feeling of your eyes following him he looked at you.

“Clean yourself if you please, I will come back later” he said.

“What’s your name?” You asked before he left, he froze, if you were staying with him, that was practically the only thing you needed to know.

“Morpheus” he spoke softly “You better use it when I return” that was thing he said before leaving you.

You stood up, inspecting the bed that had a mixture of your fluids and a few droplets of blood as a result of your hymen breaking. At last, you decided to follow Morpheus’ suggestion and hoped in the shower, so you could change your clothes and wait for your master to come back.

After all, this was your new life.